


Blue Moon

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst and Humor, BAMF Stiles, Beta Derek, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Violence, Human Alpha Stiles, Human Stiles, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Beta Read, Pain, Painplay, Safewords, Self Harm, Sexual Content, Violence, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs pain and Derek is the only one who could give it to him. Meanwhile the Alphas declared war against the scattered Beacon Hills pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, who's up for dominant!masochist Stiles? I am! That's why I wrote this fic. Enjoy, I hope you'll like it, because I enjoyed writing it. It's a complete work and I plan to update weekly.
> 
> Not betaed because I got impatient.

As Stiles was thinking about it, losing his virginity wasn’t a big deal. He thought it will be, he really did. But apparently life thought otherwise. Also, his partner wasn’t even close to the one he always imagined, but she had blonde hair. Not strawberry blonde, but blonde. No, it’s not the same at all, Stiles knew. But things still happened, and he was officially off the virgin list. Score!

It was at a house party, sometime during his sophomore year. Scott’s popularity grew more during the months and thus they weren’t just tolerated on these parties but people invited them amongst the firsts! Well, they mostly invited Scott but Stiles tagged along as his bodyguard, because werewolves needed that right? Right? Not that Scott needed him when Allison was around, even if she always caste apologizing glances at him when Scott was too busy, well, with her. But Stiles understood. Partly. Because girls were always better than anything, and he really meant anything.  

So there Stiles was, sitting on the couch between two pairs who were making out, and felt like shit. The music sucked, all the douchebags were there and Scott was nowhere to be found. As usual. But, on the upside there was alcohol and that cutie from the corner was winking at him for a while now. She had blue eyes and blonde hair, and very expensive make-up, but she was very cute, and somehow very natural. Stiles liked her, hell, he was okay with all the ladies. But he had to admit this one had no taste at all; why would anyone looking like that wanting to get a ride with him? Oh, dude she was just messing with him, wasn’t she...

Well, she wasn’t. She was all over Stiles before he could have said his real name, and really? They never exchanged names. Sometimes Stiles seen her in school, but when he looked at her all he thought was ‘yeah, the girl who rode the Stiles-coaster the first time, aww yeah’, and she was probably thinking something along the same lines too.

“Dude, I lost my virginity.”

“Sweet.”

Was all the conversation they had with Scott about it. Which was weird, Stiles wondered. He was interested in sex, yes. Sex in different positions, yes. Sex with a very, very feminine and smart girl with pink lipstick and strawberry blonde hair, and with poor taste in men, yes. They were talking a lot about sex, but not about _having_ sex. So why his first time went so... unceremonious? So... meaningless? So meaningless he wasn’t even using it as a fantasy to get off to. Nothing. It just happened.

After a day of thinking about it Stiles decided that it doesn’t matter, he had sex, he was no longer a virgin, and that’s it. He was blasting the Lonely Island feat Akon song for at least three days though.

But overall, nothing changed. Him losing his virginity didn’t stop AIDS, it didn’t save orphans, it didn’t create world peace... hell, it wasn’t even relevant when it came to the werewolves of Beacon Hills. It meant _nothing_.

His life was going on as usual: fearing for his life, struggling with guilt when he was looking into his father’s eyes, and being the usual Stiles Stilinski, or occasionally Bilinski. His grades consisted only A’s or D’s, depending if he could focus long enough and had his Adderall dose right.

So why was he sitting in this café, waiting for DOM_Angel0716? No one, but only him and her knew the reason. Though Stiles partly hoped that she won’t turn up in some freaky dominatrix get-up, depending on how and why they met online...

“You must be Stiles.” he heard a voice as he was munching on the straw of his coke. The boy quickly snapped his head toward her to check if he needs to run if anything freaky comes in his way. But thankfully, Angel was looking pretty... normal. Aside from her lace-up boots, but that could have been just a fashion choice if anyone was wondering. Her red hair was up in an elegant knot, being perfect still at the end of the day. Her pastel colored cardigan and her black knee-high skirt screamed office lady, and not, well, _dominatrix_. Stiles sighed too, and smiled widely, straw still in his mouth. In the next moment he jumped up to greet her properly.

“In person, lady-madam uh--” he stuttered offering his hand, which she took without hesitation. Her smile was kind, but business-like.

“Just call me Angel.” she said nicely, and went to occupy the seat in front of Stiles. She wasn’t even looking at the menu, but waved the waitress over, ordering a coffee with milk, no sugar. Stiles remembered because there was something about her. She wasn’t looking much out of the ordinary, but her presence, her words, the way she said them was so _confident_. Straightforward.

“Wow, uh...” Stiles gaped a little, motioning toward her with his hands. “I mean, wow, Angel, you... Soooo are you really, a...?”

“I am, Stiles, and you know that. Let’s talk about the reason we meet in person and not in the chatroom.” she smiled. “I decided to give you a chance, because you were actually doing your research and asked pretty interesting questions. But if this turns out as a stupid student trick I’m gonna make your life a living hell.” Angel added, and thanked the waitress for her coffee which just arrived. Stiles wet his dry throat by swallowing. The way she was talking made him think that she would really do it, despite his experience with werewolves and all the supernatural shenanigans.

“No, no I can assure you this is pure, uh, well curiosity of a teenager.” he nodded, smiling, still playing with the straw.

“Then tell me the whole story, Stiles. From the beginning.” she smiled blowing on her coffee.

Stiles let go of the straw just to gnaw on this lower lip a moment later. It was tricky, there was no one he told about this before, so it was hard to find the good words...

“Actually it’s still a bit strange to talk about it. You know, with all the morals and child raising my mom and dad did, be a good boy, don’t be weird... Not that I’m normal, I know I’m not, but not out of the normal too much because I know everyone is a precious little snowflake and everyone is different--”

“Stiles.” came her warning voice. “Focus.”

“Yes, focus, right. So...  Um...”

“When did you realize you need this?” Angel asked, trying to sound helpful. Stiles swiped his tongue over his lower lip as he squinted his eyes at the memory.

“A few months ago...” he started in a lower voice. “Some... shit happened, well yes I know there is always shit, but … Few months ago it got intense, you know? Let’s just say that I got hurt a few times.”

“You got bullied in school?” she asked in a matter of fact manner. Stiles snorted and shook his head.

“Everyone gets bullied, Angel. That’s high school for you... But no, not anything out of the ordinary, I mean nothing bad. Not in school...” he said, gulping some from his coke. “So, hurt. Yes. And... when I healed from one of the injuries I- I felt something, you know?” he said, looking at up at her, keeping her gaze. “I felt that I need that.” he hoped that Angel will know what he was talking about. She seemed like she understood.

“The pain?” she asked.

“The pain too.” Stiles nodded, looking down.

“Do you get sexually aroused while feeling pain?”

“No-- Well-- sometimes?” Stiles winced. It wasn’t exactly the pain, but he knew being hurt was a part of what he wanted. “But, not because of the pain... I don’t like pain. At all. Yet...”

“Yet, you want it.” Angel nodded, sighing a little. Stiles nodded, feeling glad she got what he was trying to say here. There were a few minutes of silence between them as Stiles was waiting for her input.

“Sooo... can you help me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, drumming with his feet.

“No.” Angel answered, as she went to sip her coffee.

“Oh come on...” Stiles groaned leaning back in his chair. “Just because I’m underage? Or- or I’m not your type? Or- do you think I’m not serious about this?”

“Trust me, I know you’re serious about this.” Angel said to sooth him. “But I’m not the one you need.” he stated.

“But why?! All I want is you to---” Stiles started but shut up immediately at her stare. Though he squinted his eyes feeling some kind of challenge here.

“You want what I can give you, but it isn’t me who you need.” she said leaning closer to her to get her point clear.

“You don’t find me attractive enough?” Stiles asked throwing his hands in the air.

“Stiles, you were the one saying that it has so little to do with sex. The pain, you don’t need pain for sex, you need pain for a different reason. The fact that you assumed I’d do this for sexual pleasure proves my point: you don’t trust me.”

“Wha, of course I trust you...” Stiles frowned, being confused now.

“No, you don’t. And I’m not asking you to do. But I promise to be there to help you find a partner and guide you through this.” Angel answered.

„So I’m back at square one now?” Stiles asked opening his arms in a helpless motion.

„No.” Angel said. „You left square one when you realized your needs, and when you accepted them.” the boy snorted a little, looking overly smug. „But you’re still far from beating the game. Find a partner. A partner you trust.”

„I have my best friend Scott.” Stiles offered.

„Did you tell him about this?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

„Uuuh… no? He has a lot to handle on his own.” the boy answered nervously, running his hand over his head.

„Then he’s not the one.” Angel shook her head. „It doesn’t have to be a friend, or even a lover. It needs to be a partner you trust completely. It’s sometimes even better if the involved parties are meeting only for the time of the session.”

“So you’re saying I could just walk up to some chick on the streets and ask her to give me what I want? Believe me, I tried it and it’s not really bringing good results.”

“Stiles.” she sighed, leaning forward again to get the boy back in track. “You know your needs. Now find a partner. Someone you trust. It’s essential.”

Stiles sighed, eying her as he was playing with the straw again.

“I thought you’re going to be my partner.” he muttered quietly, like a sulking child.

“I can help you with some advice and connections, but that is all. I’m doing this for your sake.” Angel said, sounding apologetic.

As Stiles was thinking about the conversation he had with Angel, he didn’t feel at all as if things had changed. He was still stuck with a demanding need and curiosity, unsatisfied… Despite the few email addresses and phone numbers of people who were similar to Angel, and might be the one for Stiles or knew someone who was good for him, he was still missing something:

Someone who he could trust in hurting him.

\--

“Dude this is not good.” Scott groaned turning a page in his Chemistry book.

“If by ‘not good’ you mean Peter is alive and could intimidate a whole Alpha pack into leaving Beacon Hills, and got Erica and soon Boyd on his side while Derek’s running around like some poisoned mouse then yes, Scott, congratulations on your sharp werewolf insight.” Stiles commented annoyed, violently scribbling some notes down at the side of the page in his book.

Since that fateful night a few weeks ago, as Stiles often liked to call it, their lives turned to the worse. Peter was alive, feeding on Derek’s Alpha mojo and snatched his pack members. Erica joined Peter the moment she had seen the power demonstration he gave the Alphas when they caught the two stray puppies. At one point, it was understandable. Peter was _strong_ , in a lot of sense of the word, and Stiles started to worry. Peter was a psychopath who couldn’t be killed. He was smart, manipulative and very, very strategic. On a top of that Peter was gaining more day by day. Derek still had Isaac in his pack, but with Erica switching sides and Boyd going omega Derek needed more people to keep up fighting... So the situation wasn’t cheery. At all. Stiles had no idea which would be better: Derek ruling the woods of Beacon Hills or Peter. Both wolves scared him shitless after all.

“That too, yeah.” Scott nodded. “It’s just... Derek asked me to join his pack.”

“Again?” Stiles sighed. It wasn’t news, really. Sourwolf was more careful about biting these days, and Stiles knew why: he was afraid his fresh little Betas will fall for Peter’s ‘charm’. No one spoke about it, but it was obvious. Derek was trying to rebuild his pack out of the existing members, and if he could get Boyd and Scott to join him, he’d be able to stand up to Peter... But he was doing a shitty job with it so far.

“Maybe I should--”

“No, Scott. No. Remember how Derek really is, you’re better without him having power over you, let’s just keep him in the creeper zone where he belongs.”

“So we let Peter win?” Scott asked, completely ignoring his Chemistry book now, eying his friend. Stiles rarely saw him this concerned about anything other than Allison.

“I didn’t say that. Peter Hale won’t succeed just because you didn’t join Derek in this war.” Stiles sighed throwing his arm in the air. “We’ll get through this. Somehow. Anyhow.” he said, licking his lips as he looked at Scott. “But hey, at least you and Allison can hit it again without sneaking around.” he added just to cheer up his friend. At least something good in this awful life they had lately.

“Yeah...” Scott smiled, looking down blushing. It really was easier this way, even if Mr. Argent was killing him with his death glare every time he seen the boy. It was pretty effective, considering he could really do that. The killing part, yes. Stiles just really hoped there isn’t anything in the background of the sudden green light for Scott to Allison’s arms. Like Allison not being Allison but some cyborg!Allison using Scott to find out a fast way to kill werewolves with laser eyes or something. One could never know.

After their cramming for Chemistry Scott went to ‘study more’ with Allison. Stiles was over his jealousy about them, because really, with all the drama they went through? They deserved to get happily intimate with each other from time to time. All the time. Several times in a row, okay maybe Stiles was still a bit jealous... But there was no time sitting at his desk masturbating when he had to go and fetch some healthy food instead of all that junk in the fridge and his baby (the Jeep, yes) needed some gas too.

As he walked up to the vehicle, his mind wondered about the contacts Angel got him. He already tried a few, even met one guy who seemed very eager especially when he saw that Stiles was underage and the boy really didn’t want to think more about it. All these people, men and women were different, and yet still not the one who he could trust in doing the job. He snorted as he was thinking that how easily people could hurt him in a lot of ways and now when he wanted it he couldn’t find a good one. What was his life anyway.

Just when he was about to open the door something slammed into him from his side, knocking him off his feet.

“Ouf, what the hell, dude?!” he asked as he flailed to get back on his feet again and froze when he spotted Derek’s red glance.

“What were you and Scott doing at our house the other night?!” the werewolf demanded.

“Nice to see you too, your manners are smooth as always.” Stiles snorted as he rubbed his elbow.

“I said...” Derek hissed as he grabbed the boy’s hoodie to lift him from the ground and slam him against the car crawling into his personal space. “What were you doing there?!”

Stiles hissed again hating the way Derek seemed to communicate lately. His aggression was set on a higher default level which wasn’t healthy to no one. Especially to poor Isaac.

“Oh my god, okay, we were just-- looking around, if there was anything we can use... against Peter or something.” Stiles said slightly out of breath. “We didn’t find anything or anyone!” the boy said in a higher tone than necessary. They were helplessly just wondering around the Hale house, trying to find clues or, something, really to make this war to stop. Stiles even secretly wished that Laura could come back from the dead and take the post of the Alpha and discipline the two bad pups. But with their luck she was still dead, while Peter lived and got stronger.

“He could have killed you!” Derek shouted. “You were on his territory!”

“But he didn’t, and we’re fine, Scott’s fine.” the boy added, because he knew that Derek was worried to lose his potential betas and with them, potential allies and power. “So go and beat the crap out of him, ‘kay.” he said, swallowing. He really, really needed a filter between his mouth and brain.

Derek held Stiles’ gaze for long minutes what Stiles supposed was some wolf intimidating technique and yes, it was working.

“Don’t go there again.” Derek said and let Stiles go before he turned and left. The boy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fiddled with his carkeys.

“Don’t go there again, rawr rawr...” he mimicked Derek’s rusty voice and winced as he felt another bruise forming on his back. He went to rub his shoulder to ease the pain, but froze in mid-way.

Pain.

Thoughts and feelings rushed into him, tossing him all around inside his head. He could faintly hear the keys giving a sound as they rested between his trembling fingers.

Pain was always connected to Derek. The kind of pain Stiles needed.

The question was if he could trust him?

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, things start to roll in Stiles' way. He seeks Derek out with his brilliant idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed because I got impatient. All mistakes are mine.

The thing was if Stiles had gotten something in his skull that thing never, ever left it. He got consumed in it, researched until he knew more about it than Google, until it bored him to death. Just like some people with songs. They could play one song over and over again because they like it so much and weeks, or months later they get bored with it and never touch it again. Stiles was the same with topics he had found interesting.

Lately, his biggest “project” was werewolves, and he was literally dying to research more about the Bestiary, but his archaic Latin was a little rusty, or more likely nonexistent, so that project needed to put on hold.

When he discovered a dark side of his needs: pain, he took that project as his number one. He was reading a lot about pain, and how it works. He learned about all kind of pain and the effects it’s causing. He learned about the sickness congenital analgesia, which is a condition when there is no sensation of pain. Stiles realized that his curiosity might be deeper this time, when he was getting a panic attack reading the cases of this sickness. He was choking on his breath and trembled just by the bare thought of not being able to feel pain. Stiles went as far as getting a mechanical pencil from his desk and jabbed it into his forearm clawing a few inches long scar into his skin. It looked horrible, as if some animal would have done it. The pain was worse despite that it calmed him down. He could feel it hurt the way he wanted it but still hated it. The fact that he had to do it himself was making it very dirty and wrong on so many levels.

Stiles decided to not to hurt himself ever again.

He started looking after materials on how to cause and receive pain. There were times he got so shocked by what he had read or seen he just shut his laptop down and went to hug his dad, or call Lydia because even she wasn’t that _evil_. He learned that most people have the tendency to hurt other people and that was very, very evil. Stiles’ first meeting with causing pain was dark and wicked, and at one point he considered giving it all up and to just ignore it. But the desire always came back, so he went and researched more.

At some point, he made his breakthrough. He found out that pain could be _sweet_. Giving pain doesn’t have to be about hurting a person, but to serve them and giving them what they need. Receiving pain didn’t have to be against one’s will, but for their pleasure. Stiles had stepped through the threshold of BDSM. This is how he had found Angel who answered all his questions, but she refused to be Stiles’ partner. Angel told Stiles that pain doesn’t have to be about sex and sexual pleasure: it could be about other deep instincts of humans: the desire to belong, the desire to control, the desire to trust, the desire of relief… However, Angel refused to be his partner so Stiles had to find one on his own.

He decided on Derek.

\--

_Help me come alone im at the north border of town_

When Stiles first stumbled upon the idea of having Derek as his partner in his sessions he tried to refuse it. He was afraid of Derek, even if he was acting tough around him. He refused to show fear. Werewolves can smell it anyway. Stiles tried to tell himself that it was natural being afraid of something which only supposed to exist in comic books and movies. That it’s a way to protect himself from further harm: being afraid, thus careful. He learned to live with it. But he hated that there was no medication against it.

This is why he was really torn over the fact that he caught himself wanting to present Derek his little ‘idea’. It caused a few sleepless nights alright. The werewolf was always brutal with him, always manhandled him, and seemingly hated even the very presence of Stiles, but he never disrespected him. Not seriously. Stiles knew that, he had experience in being looked down, being dismissed for his geeky behaviour and for “being an idiot” by the popular kids at school. He knew about real disrespect and humiliation, and Derek wasn’t practicing that art on him. Not that he was respecting Stiles, obviously not, but at least he didn’t want to hurt and humiliate him just for his own entertainment and that meant _a lot_.

On Stiles’ part, he trusted Derek. It was a surprising discovery, but he indeed trusted the wolf. It could be because of all the shit they had gone through together, or the fact that Derek always came when he was needed. He saved their asses a few times, mostly Stiles’ ass of course.

But Derek was still a werewolf with issues, and with a baggage of his traumatic past. He was unstable, reckless, and so not Alpha material these days. Stiles really needed to think about it, because if he decides to involve Derek in this very sensitive matter and the wolf leaves him hanging he will never live it down. Somehow, the thing Stiles wanted felt deeper and more intimate than sex and it confused the hell out of him.

He was thinking about Angel’s words: no need to be friends. No need to be lovers either. Just trust them. Well, he trusted Derek alright, and decided to put up everything to that. Stiles picked a place, a possibly neutral territory (because he didn’t want to confront Derek either on his or Peter’s territory) and sent the text out.

_Help me come alone im at the north border of town_

The text supposed to be a test of some sort. If Derek really comes, and he’s alone, then Stiles presents him his marvelous idea, if he isn’t alone, or Scott comes he’s not the one Stiles would gamble on anymore.

It was a cloudy night but the weather wasn’t all that chilly as they were nearing the end of spring. Stiles was parking a bit away from the road that led out of the town, away from curious glances or shifty people. He didn’t want to be attacked for real after all. He was fiddling with his phone as he was pacing around his jeep, kicking at dirt and humming the tune of Skyfall while he was waiting. Then he heard the rustling of leaves and froze on the spot. His stomach tensed and his pulse picked up, there was something out th—

“SWEET MOTHER OF SHIT—“ Stiles cursed as when he found himself nose to nose to a werewolf as he turned his head. To the very one he had texted just about ten minutes ago and Derek didn’t seem too amused. But when did he ever? “Can you just, like, not to sneak around like that…” Stiles gasped for air as he took a few flailing steps back. “Jesus…” he panted running his hand over his buzz cut, trying to just get himself together.

As expected, the werewolf didn’t say anything, but looked at Stiles with his best ‘tearing your throat out with my teeth’ expression and crossed his arms.

“I-I guess you’ve already looked around and found nothing, huh?” Stiles started smiling nervously as he was motioning around. “Aaand now wondering why the hell I called you here then. Yes. Well…” he started as he was looking anywhere but at Derek. “I—I well, I don’t know why I thought you won’t come when I knew that you will it’s so weird…” at this point the werewolf turned to leave and Stiles scrambled after him almost losing his balance. He grabbed a handful of Derek’s leather jacket to stop him. “Wait wait wait, I still need to talk to you.”

“Stiles I don’t have time for your stupid tricks.” Derek said as he grabbed the boy’s hand to pry off his fingers of his jacket. It only made Stiles want him more in this.

“I’m sorry for lying.” He said quickly, but let go of Derek. “Please.” he added, as he swallowed to wet his dry throat. The man’s shoulder tensed up and obviously considered to just leave the boy here, but after a few seconds of debating he half turned back toward Stiles. The boy took this as a cue to speak.

“Hurt me, please.” he blurted out, and Derek’s expression was priceless except Stiles wasn’t in the joking mood. “I mean… will you hurt me?” the wolf’s brows furrowed, but he wasn’t looking angry. His confusion was clear, but Stiles discovered a very hint of devastation too. “No, no I’m not asking you to kill me, obviously.” the boy added quickly.

Derek looked away huffing which almost seemed like a sigh of _relief_. Stiles got more confident in his choice.

“I-I need someone to- to hurt me. You see? Someone who causes me pain. Without killing me. I don’t want to die, I’m a survivor, I’m a Stilinski.” Stiles explained as he was spreading his flailing arms. “But I want to be hurt, and I want it to be you.” he motioned toward Derek, sighing. He refused to acknowledge how his voice was trembling and that he felt like he was naked: embarrassed and partly shameful. He shared a piece of information with Derek he was considering very precious.

The wolf seemed still confused but Stiles knew that he had his whole attention now. Derek was taking him seriously.

“Hurting as in… physically?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Do it yourself.”

“That’s not the same.” Stiles sighed, feeling like he’s losing. He needed Derek to do this, suddenly. There was no one else who could do this, he was sure. “It needs to be someone else, and it’s you.” At that, Derek closed his eyes annoyed for a moment and looked away. “I’m sure it would be a great practice for you too, I mean you could get rid of all the aggression you have built up, and maybe have a little fun, and it’s not like you’re hurting me for real because I give you permission for it, so it’s safe from the hunters.” Stiles rambled.

“Shut up.”

“Okay, okay.” Stiles swallowed pocketing his hands. “Just… Derek, listen, I… really need this. I haven’t told about this to anyone, except you. Not Scott, not my dad, no one. I’ll keep it a secret, so if you’re afraid of that then--”

“Why me?” Derek asked, purely getting more and more nervous as Stiles was talking, judging by his tense stance.

“Because I trust you.” Stiles replied throwing one of his arms in the air. As if it wasn’t a big deal but it was. He knew that, and he was aware that Derek knew too. The boy wasn’t this sure in anything else in his life. He was staring intently at the werewolf, waiting for his response which came too slow.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked his gaze finally meeting with the boy’s. Stiles took a deep breath. He was prepared for this question, and he knew that this is it. This is the last wall he has to climb to reach out to Derek.

“If we really do this it means we have to be honest with each other. I will answer honestly to all your questions, and you will have to answer me openly too.” he started, taking a shaky breath. “My answer for your question is not to hurt you or to mock you…” he added, still gathering his courage.

“Stiles…” came Derek’s warning tone, and the boy tensed his neck, but his gaze not wandering from the wolf’s.

“You were born and raised as a Beta.” He started. “You were trained to receive orders and not to give them. Your life was about serving and not being served.” He could hear the low, angry growl coming from Derek’s direction, but he ignored it for his sanity. “I… can give you that.”

The moment Stiles stopped talking Derek’s angry roar filled the night. It made the boy’s knees shake, but he stood his ground. He had nothing to hide anymore.

“I’m the Alpha now!” Derek growled stalking closer. “Every wolf is trained to be quicker, smarter and stronger to get higher in the hierarchy.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you _have_ to…”

“Shut up, Stiles!” the wolf yelled and Stiles sucked in a sharp breath seeing those teeth.

“You know you should totally channel these feelings into our sessions, you would feel much better…” he tried as he flinched away from the wolfed out Derek. The werewolf didn’t even give him an answer just turned and left. “…or just leave, yeah, that’s… that’s an option too.” Stiles sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he was staring at the spot where Derek disappeared.

The feeling of betrayal was familiar to Stiles and it didn’t matter how intensive it washed over him. Derek obviously didn’t like to be confronted with the truth, but it had to be done. Stiles gambled and probably lost. Probably. Because there was still a faint hope in the very pit of his stomach that Derek, when he calms down, will want more out of this. He couldn’t explain why, he just knew.

So Stiles decided to give him a week. If Derek won’t seek him out in a week, he will leave him alone and find someone else.

\--

Waiting was a bitch. Stiles hated waiting. He so wanted to text Derek or to visit him at the rail station or send a message with Scott or Isaac, but he decided not to do that. He physically had to hold onto something (other than his phone) when he was thinking about it. A week has passed, and Derek refused to give any sign, or show up.

Yet, Stiles was there, still waiting for his answer.

“Dude, you’re weirder than usual.” Scott remarked at lunch as Stiles was holding onto his water bottle with a death grip.

“Huh? What was that?” Stiles asked loudly, cupping his hand to his ear as if he didn’t hear what Scott said. “I heard something which could be considered rude and for your safety I give you a chance to repeat it to assure me it was just a slip of your tongue!” he said on his best ‘sheriff impression’ voice. Scott snorted amused at him.

“You got your meds right?” he asked smiling, and his friend cast him an overly dramatic offended expression.

“I’m taking meds?” Stiles asked gasping and it made them both laugh. He was thankful that Scott could always ease his troubled mind. Also, Scott was the one who stressed Stiles out the most from time to time…

“Hey guys.” Allison greeted them smiling as she sat down next to Scott greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey…” Scott answered, already melting into a puddle of goo.

“How’s Isaac?” the girl asked, sounding concerned and Scott’s expression turned grim. Stiles perked up.

“Wha, why, something happened to him?” he asked. His friend sighed a bit tired, and put down his fork.

“He spent the last night at the animal clinic.” he said with a hint of darkness in his voice which made Stiles shiver slightly. “Apparently, Derek snapped at him.” He explained, looking at Allison. “He’s got a serious concussion for a few hours and he broke most of his bones…”

“I still can’t believe he’s still sticking with Derek after all this.” Allison sighed.

“It’s for the pack.” Scott said quietly in a way that implied that they were talking about this before.

Stiles sighed tightening his lips. He really hoped that Derek’s mood wasn’t affected by his little chat with him. Or else he has to go and personally apologize to Isaac.

“Derek got desperate when Boyd joined Peter.” Allison explained, looking at Stiles.

“What?!” the boy gasped. Since how many things these people are keeping from him!? Next thing he knows that Lydia had a crush on him since first year…! “What the hell, dude, when did that happen?! Last time I checked Boyd was in the anti-psycho club, how come he’s in Peter’s pack now?!”

“That’s what I’m asking too!” Scott said leaning toward Stiles. “If we won’t do something…”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Allison started in a louder voice than it was necessary. “Peter is a murderer, he’ll be eliminated.”

“Together with his whole pack. Erica and Boyd did nothing!” Scott snapped back and Stiles was definitely sure that these two were heavily invested in this argument even before this.

“Whoa whoa whoa okay, trouble in paradise…” he started holding up his hands for the two to stop arguing. “So, just if I get this clear: Boyd and Erica are Peter-pals now, and Peter is on the Argent’s shopping list with all his pack members, and Derek is beating the crap out of Isaac in his frustration?” he asked, looking pointedly at Scott and Allison who were nodding. Stiles sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well that’s wonderful news, really.”

Awkward silence ensued and it made him roll his eyes, so he decided to lecture them both to ALWAYS tell him when things like this happen, because really? He might not be a hunter or a werewolf but he’s friends with a hunter and a werewolf so, yes, it would be appreciated. Thank you.

But they all agreed that Derek’s current unstable behaviour doesn’t help anyone. Stiles was actually impressed that Scott realized it was connected to the fact that Erica and Boyd just left him hanging with some half-assed, yet, valid reason. Hell, Stiles wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t flee to save his ass from psychopathic hunters in their places. But this should be the time when the pack must stick more together and not intimidate the leftover members. But what Stiles knew about werewolf packs and Alpha methods, really, he was just a silly human in all this madness.

\--

“I swear to god if I die from heart attack I’ll come back to haunt your werewolf ass so bad no exorcist can help you!” Stiles stuttered as he was trying to force air back into his lungs, and get his pulse to calm to the level where he won’t see yellow dots in his vision. “I’m serious. I can do that.” He added with a big sigh, rubbing his face.

Stiles and Scott decided to visit Isaac after school who was still hanging out at the animal clinic. It’s not like Isaac was afraid of Derek, or how he handles him. It’s just he’s gotten a bit tired, and Stiles couldn’t agree with him more. This isn’t the way things should go after all. Stiles just got back to his room since a few minutes when he spotted Derek crouching on his windowsill like some motherfucking stalker in the night. Holy crap. Not a good image, not at all. Thus, the near death scare.

While Stiles was flailing and trying to get back on his normal level of spazz, Derek slowly stepped into the room and closed the window behind him. How polite. Yet, his movements were slower and not carefully slow, just slow. Hesitant. Stiles licked his lower lip as he was eying the werewolf who wasn’t facing him. His shoulders were tense, as default, but Stiles knew that he had an answer for his request. It doesn’t matter that Stiles gave him a week and Derek was late a few days, he was there, and he was ready to either end or start this.

“Are you just gonna… stand there like some Weeping Angel or we’re gonna talk—“ Stiles started but halted when he heard the low growl. He wasn’t aiming to piss Derek off after all. “Isaac’s doing fine.” He added as he tilted his head to try and see the other’s face, squinting his eyes slightly. “You do realize that he’s the last of your pa—“

“How do we do this.” Derek snapped suddenly stretching the sudden awkwardness he generated between them. Stiles blinked then gaped a little. He stepped back flailing his hands slightly, still processing the pretty sudden answer. That was Derek’s answer. This was his answer. He was willing to do this, and Stiles knew he will accept, but at the same time he didn’t, and it was all so sudden, and so weird, and it was almost a too _happy_ feeling.

“Ok, so here’s the deal,” Stiles started and went to shut his door locking it properly, then slammed his laptop on his desk to fetch some files. The laptop was opening with the last site Stiles was browsing about hardcore S/M sessions so Derek was greeted with a picture he never, ever will be able to bleach out of his mind. “Oh! No, no no no, this is not, this is, no just give me a minute!” Stiles flailed trying to cover up the screen with his hands and try to find the doc file he was working on.

Derek sighed, and Stiles swore that it was a nervous sigh, but he was too busy with finally presenting the details to Derek and maybe set all this into motion.

“So, are you ready?” he said as he snatched the page he printed out and held it out for Derek. The wolf didn’t reach for it he was just staring at Stiles with pocketed hands. But at least he was facing toward him now. Stiles huffed at that and saluted at Derek with the paper before he turned to read it. “Sssooo… Yes. Rules. We’ll need rules. You already know the first one, I told you. Honesty. Because, uuh, we could only do this if we’re telling everything, or it just becomes very nasty. Do you get it?” Derek’s jaw tightened. So he didn’t get it.

“Oh-kay, we’ll eventually get there don’t worry.” Stiles said, clearing his throat and glanced at his list again. “No biting. I think that’s obvious why. No clawing, for the same reasons.”

“It won’t infect you.” Derek said suddenly, glaring a hole in the room’s floor. “Clawing.” He added. Just in case. Stiles was eying him at that for a few seconds but when it was clear that Derek’s done with his input he nodded.

“Right, then… Clawing is fine.” he said casually and grabbed a pen from his desk and scribbled it on the paper, missing Derek’s passing expression of confusion. “Right, good. So, no sex or anything sexual because that’s just humiliation at this point, so no. Then, yes, no breaking bones either. Obviously, it draws too much attention. Also, no visible harm on the face, because my face is awesome also, it stands out too much. And this leads us to the most important part of the rules: secrets. It’s going to be a secret.” He repeated the words slow and emphasized. “This is private. Between you and me.” Stiles hated how his voice sounded slightly weaker than he intended to. He got thrown off a bit by it even, so he took a moment to recover as he was rereading his rules.

“Also… it’s, it’s not going to be all the time. It’s- There are going to be sessions.” He started when he finally found his voice, looking back up at Derek. “There will be two words. One will start the session, the other will end it.”

Derek frowned at that.

“By sessions… you mean the time I’m hurting you?” he asked a bit unsure. It was already starting to get too much for him, Stiles could tell, but he was trying to handle it. The wolf looked like he just got hit with wolfsbane bullet and Stiles didn’t blame him for it. He’s still handling it better than Stiles himself for the first time.

“Yes.” the boy nodded, licking his lips. “But it’s going to be controlled. That’s why the rules, that’s why the safe words. That’s why the commands…” he added carefully, eying Derek’s every movement and expression. The werewolf frowned and his eyes flickered at the boy.

“Commands?” came the quiet question.

“Commands, orders.” Stiles repeated, his heartbeat picking up. “I’ll be in charge for all this.” he said. “Only during the session, out of the session, you do as you please. But… during the session, you need to follow my orders, if I have any.”

Derek sighed and rubbed his eyes as if he was trying to fight off a headache.

“You’ll order me to hurt you.” he summarized motioning toward Stiles with his arm. “Why?”

Stiles shrugged looking away, waving the page in his hand.

“I just need it.” he said. “So, are we clear? Are we done? Will you… will you accept?” he asked, just to be sure. The werewolf groaned in frustration and looked around in the room as if there would be an answer to this, or if he could wake up from this dream. Stiles gave him time, whistling a Florence and the Machine song.

“Let me look at that.” Derek hissed and grabbed the slightly crumpled paper from Stiles’ hand.

  1. _Honesty!_
  2. _No Biting!_
  3. _~~No clawing!~~_ _Clawing is OK ~~~~_
  4. _No sex!_
  5. _No breaking bones!_
  6. _No visible harm on the face!_
  7. _KEEP IT SECRET!_
  8. _Stiles’ in charge!_
  9. _WORDS_



The wolf was reading the list over and over again.

“What are the words?” he asked, turning his face toward the boy.

“Right, the words are… well, for the start of the session, I was thinking ‘blue moon’.” Stiles said with a laughing tone, but Derek so wasn’t appreciating his humour judging his death glare. “And to end the session it’s ‘Smurfs’.”

Well if that didn’t throw Derek off then nothing. His expression was tired, frustrated and just so _done_.

“Smurfs?” he asked with a very slight exasperation.

“It needs to be a word I’m not likely gonna say…” Stiles explained. “Smurfs is good.”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, not really curious about it, he was just getting so tired of this.

“Because ‘no’ won’t do.” the boy continued. “’No’ won’t mean a thing.”

What he said caught Derek’s attention. Now it was Stiles’ turn to look away. He sighed, biting at his lower lip.

“I’ll most probably shout at you to stop, but you must not stop if we’re during a session. Not until I say the safe word.” He explained. “Humans are hardwired to run from pain, and I am too. But I need it.” Stiles said in a low tone, as he took the page back from Derek’s hand to write down the words for him. “Will you do this for me, even like this?” he asked, holding the full list up to the other.

Derek was re-reading the list again, and his glance stuck on the safe word. He didn’t answer for a long time.

“There needs to be one more word.” He said quietly and took the pen to write it down. “My safe word.” Stiles blinked slightly confused, because holy crap Derek accepted, and what does he mean by HIS safe word?! “For when… I don’t want to hurt you.” the wolf said in a rusty voice, and presented the list to Stiles.

‘Wolf’ was written next to the two safe words. Stiles felt his lips grow into the hugest grin ever.

“Look at you being sentimental.” He said, cooing.

“Shut up.” Derek snapped.

“So you’re free next Tuesday at seven at the same place where I first called you to?” Stiles asked then casually. He so totally just came up with that plan on the spot. Really. Derek huffed through his nose and nodded.

“I’ll be there.” he assured and rolled his eyes when Stiles pumped his first into the air.

\--

“Peter seeked me out.” Isaac said quietly. These four words made the others almost choke on their coke or diet coke in the case of Allison.

“And you’re still alive?!” Stiles asked trying to see if Isaac’s really there with them by jabbing his finger into his shoulder. When it was clear that Isaac was indeed still amongst the living, Scott was the one asking something more serious.

“Derek was there?” he asked, looking at Isaac intently.

“No.”

“AND YOU’RE STILL ALIVE?!” Stiles shrieked poking Isaac again until Allison had enough and shoo’d his hands away from the boy.

“He was… He was talking about their family.” Isaac said with a half smile, looking down at their French fries. “And how he misses them, and that he wants to start again with a new family.”

“He asked you to join him?” Scott gasped. Isaac just shook his head thoughtfully munching on a french fry.

“No, nothing like that.” he said. “He just… he just asked if I want to live my life in a dysfunctional family forever or… get a taste of how a real one would feel.”

Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance. There was a long silence then when the only sound was the people around them chatting and eating. In the end, Scott was the one speaking up.

“If you want to, you should join him.” came his answer, and Stiles wouldn’t believe it if he weren’t seeing the boy’s mouth move and form those words. “I mean…” Scott started slightly nervous when he felt everyone’s stare at him. “Peter _is_ a strong Alpha… I mean, he came back from the dead, and—“

“He killed people.” Stiles interrupted him in a tone that implied that Scott’s supposed to take his medication right then and there.

“He’s good at survival…”

“He killed one of his pack. Because he’s cuckoo. In the head, Scott.” Stiles told him as if he was talking to a six years old.

Scott sighed looking around a bit lost.

“I just, I mean… Derek seems to be worse than Peter right now, and... Isaac deserves better..”

“He was talking to you too?” Allison asked with a slightly urgent voice, eying Scott intently. The boy huffed and shook his head.

“No…” Allison sighed, looking at Stiles a bit concerned who was mirroring her expression. There was something certainly up with Scott.

“Scott…” the girl started in a soothing voice, but Isaac interrupted, smiling.

“It doesn’t matter.” he said lightly. “I never wanted to be in Peter’s pack, and I won’t join just because he wouldn’t handle me the way Derek does. It’s not that I want to stick with Derek either.” he mused, looking at Scott. “I’m staying because you trust him.” he said.

Stiles frowned. He understood what Isaac was implying, and as he noticed, Allison did too. But not Scott. He acted confused as he was blinking at Isaac.

“I- I… well he helped me with a few things. Saved my life a few times and all…” he said, wincing slightly at the memories.

“Well I have to go home now.” Allison started suddenly, collecting her bag.

“I’m going with you!” Scott offered and scrambled to his feet.

“Oh, sorry I’m heading out with my dad…” she said apologetically but gave Scott an apology kiss, then a goodbye kiss, then a don’t-go kiss, and one more goodbye kiss. It’s not that Stiles could categorize their kisses. Really.

“I’m going too.” Isaac sighed and prepared to leave. “Tomorrow then.” he smiled at the two boys and walked away. Probably back to Derek.

Stiles sighed as he was eying the exit of the fast food restaurant.

“You do realize that Isaac just declared you as his Alpha, right?” he asked without even thinking about it and glanced at Scott who almost chocked on his leftover burger.

“What?! He- he just said he’s staying with Derek, because he’s someone I trust…” the boy snorted.

“But if you’d say that he should go and join Peter for real, he’d do that.” Stiles countered.

“I didn’t really want him to join Peter I just—“

“Now see, this is why he chose you.” Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair all smug. “Look at you having a puppy for yourself, it’s adorable Scott, it really is.” He laughed and ducked from the rain of fries Scott threw at his direction.

“Whatever Peter told you, ignore it. You’re better without any of those two weirdos, ok? You have your pack already.” Stiles added grinning and meaning every word of it. He was worried for Scott because his heroic nature will cause him so many problems in the future. Stiles’ job was to keep the boy at bay, and maybe one day, see him finally turn things around for the better.

No matter what it takes.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' and Derek's first and second sessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that Jackson didn't turn into a werewolf after the kanima incident in this.
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> So, how is it so far?

Tuesday has finally arrived. That one particular Tuesday Stiles was anticipating very, very much. It was like Christmas. Not really Christmas, obviously, because Christmas was awesome, but Stiles was just as excited about it. Which was pretty messed up but he tried not to think about it. He was over that stage of shame but it always came back to haunt him. He asked himself multiple times if he’s sick mentally? If he’s just broken? If he’s just as mad as Peter? But the more he researched about it the more he accepted it. He wasn’t hurting anyone with it so why it’s a bad thing he craves this feeling? It’s not a bad thing. It’s because he’s human. A human who’s finally getting closer to his needs. So, yay for Tuesday!

Stiles arrived at the place a bit before seven and drove his jeep deeper into the woods where it won’t stick out. He had an alibi for the next few hours as in “researching in the library”. He could actually give a pretty valid reason to his father about it: “I’m researching in the library because I can’t jerk off there so I can concentrate on my project.” He could see the emotions passing his father’s face wanting to ask, but not at the same time and was very disturbed but then not. It was actually hilarious. Stiles was pretty proud of himself for coming up with his greatest alibi ever which wasn’t even that big of a lie.

He stopped the car and checked the little package he prepared for this occasion. It had mineral water, M&M’s, chips, band-aid, antiseptic, wolfs bane (carefully packaged, because he didn’t want to hurt Derek but he was still dealing with a werewolf here), towels… all useful stuff. Stiles smiled gleefully and got out of the car. He immediately spotted Derek’s Camaro nearby with the wolf leaning against it, waiting for him. Stiles got so giddy it tuned out the slight hum of fear he was also experiencing.

“Nice, didn’t scare me to death this time.” he remarked as he unzipped his hoodie, and started undressing.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked frowning as he pushed himself away from his car.

“Changing. I don’t want my normal clothes to get dirty, you know?” Stiles answered oblivious of the fact that Derek’s shoulders tensed up even more. The boy pulled on one of his old sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He didn’t bother with jumpers or hoodies, he knew it’ll get hot soon anyway; also they cost more than simple t-shirts. Now, he looked like a hobo… He wasn’t facing Derek while he was changing but when he was ready he was just in time to see the werewolf throw his leather jacket on the backseat of his car. “You’re getting serious, huh?” he grinned cocking his chin up but cleared his throat a bit nervously when he caught Derek’s death glare. It will never get better, or less intimidating.

“So, you got the rules?” Stiles asked, rubbing his hands nervously. The werewolf just crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow. Maybe that meant yes. The boy sighed and cleared his throat again, looking around taking in the dark scenery. Yes, he was nervous. He had never been this nervous before in his life despite his experiences with werewolves or just a simple talk with Lydia. He collected himself and took a deep breath. He glanced at Derek.

“Blue moon.” he smirked and he would never admit it but he was damn impressed by how those words left his lips. All confident and full with _magic_. Derek just sighed through his nose as he was still eying Stiles with the same glare. And did nothing. “Sooo, yeah. We started it.” Stiles hinted. Just in case.

“I know.” Derek nodded looking expectantly at Stiles. The boy frowned a little confused. He was a bit lost on how to start this all, and he mentally kicked himself on how he could be so unprepared. He must look like he’s not even thinking about this seriously… “Shall I--?” he started but Derek interrupted his question with a word that was almost a bark.

“ _Run._ ” Stiles heard and he didn’t even hesitate. He just turned and dashed away. He had no idea why he just got so damn scared, but it did the trick. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins making him feel like the king of the world. A fucking terrified king, but weren’t all kings like that? As Stiles was thinking about kings he realized he didn’t even see Derek move he just rushed away from him. Maybe the wolf was still standing by the cars, laughing at Stiles and his silly games. So he risked a glance over his shoulder and his vision doubled by what he saw. Derek has turned into his half human, half wolf form and was in his hills. His eyes were glowing unnatural red. The kind of red Stiles only could associate with madness for some reason. That Alpha wolf there wasn’t entirely whole and maybe that horrified the boy more than anything. He let out a cry of utter fear and lost his running rhythm. He stumbled but desperately tried to keep up his pace and failing. He felt the wolf’s clawed paws on his back as he pounced him from behind.

Stiles stumbled and fell on the forest ground. It was soft, cold and wet thanks to the leaves and moss, but even that couldn’t make the fact better that a now a werewolf was standing over him, growling dangerously. Stiles pushed himself up with all his strength to continue his run but the moment he was up Derek grabbed his shoulder, digging his claws into his skin and flesh and raised him from the ground. Stiles yelled, grabbing onto Derek’s hands to free himself, but it was futile. The werewolf didn’t even feel Stiles nails on his skin as he was trying to claw him he just growled at his prey and threw him away as if he were just a rag doll.

And Stiles felt just like that. He was trying to fight Derek but as expected the wolf was stronger than him. And that was fine.

It hurt. Everything Derek did hurt. It was painful. Stiles’ shoulder was getting swollen and he was sure there will be visible bruises at the back of his head from when the wolf slammed him against a tree multiple times. The amount of beating he got was almost unbearable, and Derek’s violence was terrifying. At the same time though, he was awful in it; messy and too random. If it wasn’t for the rules, Stiles was sure he wouldn’t even be alive.

Stiles had no idea how much time had passed like this, how long the session lasted. When he felt that he’ll really die if one more blow or hit lands on him he stuttered his safe word.

He was afraid he was too quiet because even he himself could barely hear his words. But when he clenched his teeth and prepared for the next blow and it didn’t come he realized that the wolf could hear them. Stiles let go of his breath with a loud gasp when he was sure that Derek won’t hurt him anymore and took in his stance. He was on all fours, trembling like a newborn fawn. His shoulder was aching, and bleeding, and that was probably the reason he had double vision. He took in a few deep breaths but it was a very bad idea because his stomach decided to participate. He threw up his dinner on the spot and if that didn’t make him feel more miserable then nothing. Indeed, the word he was looking for was ‘miserable’.

Stiles was hurting all over, his body was basking in pain.

He was too hurt to think about how that was what he _wanted_. He spit the aftertaste of vomit from his mouth and slowly sat back on his heels and looked up at Derek. The wolf was standing over him, probably watching his little ‘performance’. The boy’s eyes were shiny from the unshed tears, and his lips were trembling, still stuck on the verge of a scream even if it would be a voiceless one.

It was one thing that his body hurt, but he wasn’t sure what his insides were doing.

“Are you done?” came Derek’s quiet question. Stiles couldn’t find any emotion in his tone, or see anything in his face. The boy blinked at him a few times, slowly and tired.

“Yes.” he whispered then and forced himself to stand up with shivering limbs. His hips and lower back complained but he ignored it. Stiles had to admit that he might have passed out while walking because the next thing he knew that he was leaning against the door of his jeep. “Shit.” he groaned as he was looking around for Derek. He was still there, still eying Stiles with that blank face and Stiles wanted to bash it in so much in that moment.

“Will you be okay?” the wolf asked.

“I will.” Stiles croaked hating how his speech was reduced to one or two words now. The world was surely different inside and outside too. Stiles could tell he’s got messed up on so many different levels and he wasn’t sure it was healthy at all. He stepped into something twisted and deep and very, very painful.

Derek nodded and turned to get into his car and drove away without a second glance back. Just like that. The boy had no idea why it sparked the first emotion he registered since the session blanked him out: anger.

Stiles groaned from pain again as he turned to open the door of his Jeep and climbed on the driver seat. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His hand sneaked under his shirt to feel the claw marks Derek left on his shoulder half expecting them to be bone deep which will need stitches. But the wounds were shallow. Stiles could feel that they were the kind which will heal in a few days. Derek was going easy on him. Yet there he was, broken as his father’s heart. It made him laugh at first.

The boy didn’t know when the tears started flowing from his eyes, but the moment he noticed, he couldn’t keep in the sob that was bubbling up from his throat, changing his laugh into something nastier. It wasn’t a panic attack, it was the crushing feel of loneliness. Suddenly, he felt so lost and too alone… He regretted letting Derek go, he didn’t want to deal with this all by himself. Stiles felt like he’s going to go mad then and there from all the feelings which were pouring back into him as he was coming through the shock. It was almost like being drunk, and letting go of yourself when everything you ever hid away comes back at once and you explode and take everyone down with you.

A bit later (or maybe hours later, Stiles really lost his sense of time for that night) he drove back home, and he was damn proud that he still could do that. Because he felt like he can’t really move his arms, or legs, or see properly. Nothing was the same as before and he was hurting all over.

By the time Stiles got home he cursed the day he stumbled upon this stupid, dangerous and painful need. He hated himself, he hated Derek, he hated how vulnerable and exposed he was feeling. He hated how he can’t just crawl into bed with his dad and cling to him and ask him to read Winnetou like he did so many times before. He could have none of that anymore, and that hurt him somewhere he didn’t want to go near.

The session was more intimate than Stiles expected. Of course he read about how the aftercare of the sessions was important but he ditched it. He didn’t think it mattered that much, but apparently it did… The worst thing in all this was that Derek probably wasn’t going to tolerate one more thing on that god forsaken list. Stiles knew the wolf. Sometimes he was afraid that he knew too much about him. He could read him more than he could read Scott and that was terrifying because what he saw wasn’t pretty. It was frightening, violent, and greedy.

Stiles was glad that his father didn’t confront him as he was stumbling inside the house trying to get to the shower before he gives up on life for good. He let the hot water run and wash everything away.

And that was when he first felt why he was even doing this in the first place. He choked on his breath, as his body was slowly starting to get back to normal.  It still hurt, and he knew it will hurt for a few days, maybe for weeks. He had claw marks on his shoulder; his whole back is going to be bruised. Also, he hoped his spleen was still attached to him. In a light of that he will somehow has to ditch weightlifting in P.E. for a few days, also he has to come up with a good explanation of that pulp on the back of his head. But it was getting better. Just a small thing as a shower turned into such a treasure in the highlight of his sudden discovered need, and he loved it.

He leaned against the wall of the shower and smiled to himself.

This is it, he thought.

\--

“Dude, what the hell!” Scott practically shrieked when he saw Stiles and he tried to get off his bicycle so fast he stumbled like someone who had never learned to walk properly. It was hilarious.

“What?” Stiles blinked pretending to not to know what his friend’s problem was and looked behind him. Despite that there were no visible bruises on his face or hands, the back of his head was still decorated with a huge pulp and all in all he looked like a piece of crap. Or someone on drugs.

“You, what happened to you!?” Scott frowned and hurried to his side to check on him. “Are you hurt?!”

“Scott...” Stiles laughed a bit nervously because _of course_ he was hurt, but there was no way he’ll tell anything about it to Scott. He respected the guy, they were in a lot of man-business together but this was something Stiles couldn’t share with him. He wasn’t sure Scott would understand, actually. Which was silly because Scott would understand, and in the same time, he wouldn’t.

“I smell something...” Scott frowned then and if that didn’t alarm Stiles AT ALL then nothing.

“Whoa whoa whoa there wolfboy!” he started loudly, holding up his hand to keep Scott intact. “Remember the time I saw Lydia in that very sexy green top with the golden pattern on it and this grey skirt she had on that was showing too little but too much and I had to jerk off in the washroom before P.E. because it would have gotten too embarrassing?” he asked while his friend was looking at him utterly confused. “And then you said you could smell it, and you had to be very loud about it, so we decided not to do it again?”

“What, jerking off at school?” Scott asked, pretty lost there suddenly.

“No! Smelling me!” Stiles answered stomping. “You know I can’t smell you, you could have done all the things that’d make us stop being friends for a few days, and I couldn’t even tell! So, dude, some privacy here? ‘Kay?” he asked emphasizing his words with nods and flails.

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Scott blinked, apparently a bit disturbed now.

“You’re thinking about Lydia’s green top now, aren’t you?” Stiles asked in a dry tone, squinting his eyes at the other.

“Uh, no?”

“Good, then I don’t have to hit you.” Stiles grinned and turned to walk to the school building. He vaguely wondered what else Scott could smell on him. Or what exactly was what he smelled. If he could tell Derek’s scent is there or not… On a different note, Scott didn’t seem all that bothered that Stiles was a possible victim of some school bullies and Stiles mentally facepalmed at that. Scott will never, ever change, and that was fine. That was good. Someone had to stay sane after all.

“Any news on the Alpha war though?” he asked casually. Scott chuckled a little at the title, and shook his head.

“Nothing new…” he said.

“Lydia’s doing fine.” Stiles offered. Since what happened to her he felt better to check on Lydia regularly, trying to prevent another of Peter’s tricks. He called her mostly, because she was still too “shy” to speak with him in public. Stiles liked to tell himself that. But no matter what her attitude was toward him, he continued adoring her. Especially after what Peter did to her. His admiration was partly the so called heroic instinct most boys tended to have toward ‘injured’ girls, but partly because he was in _awe_. Lydia was going through something very traumatic, something that would have messed Stiles up so bad in her place, and she was alone without any help. That will be one thing Stiles will never forgive himself for: letting Lydia down. But she was strong and that was sexier than high heels, or green tops. It doesn’t matter if she wanted it or not, she will have Stiles’ undying love, forever.

Lydia was the only reason Stiles was glad that Jackson survived the incident. It made Lydia happy, and she wasn’t crying anymore. In Stiles’ opinion she’d do alright without Jackson, too… but that was not his decision. People had lives, and they made the choices and sometimes not the best ones.

The important thing was that Lydia and Jackson were doing fine. It was almost like everything was resetting itself, except there was Peter on the loose, and two packs of werewolves will be fighting for territory and power soon, catching Scott in the middle. Meanwhile the Argents were waiting if they need to slap a bitch. Stiles felt that there was a joke in there somewhere.

Their current war was a slow one. Peter was a fan of waiting, hiding, like a snake. Hell, the guy pretended to be in a coma for years, he was coming back from the dead, he could do practically anything and a little bit of resting, and playing with everyone’s nerves was just his game.

It also gave Stiles’ time to wander from the main problems back to his.

The session left Stiles broken physically and mentally, yet the next morning he was already thinking about the next occasion when he could do another one. He could barely move, and he was aching all over, but he was thinking about getting hurt _again_. He asked for an advice from Angel on how often heavy sessions could happen and that’s how he was planning the next time. Thankfully, he was a teenager so he was healing fast but Angel advised him to get some vitamin C on the way, just in case and get properly hydrated and not on Pepsi, jesus… Anyway, it meant that Stiles texted the next date to Derek and got no answer.

Maybe that was a yes?

\--

Apparently, when Derek doesn’t text back it indeed means yes. Annoying nevertheless.

“You know you can totally answer my texts, just so I know I’m not coming here all in vain.” Stiles huffed while he was changing. He was glad again that the late afternoon weather wasn’t that chilly anymore, but it also signed the arrival of a hot summer.

“I’ll let you know when you don’t have to come.” Derek answered in an annoyed tone. Though Stiles noticed the wolf was dressed for the occasion too. He looked sportier than the last they met, and there was no leather jacket this time. It made Stiles grin as walked up to the wolf. He was about to start the session when he noticed something. The dark circles under the other’s eyes. Werewolves weren’t supposed to be sick, so what the hell… “Hey, dude, are you ok?” he asked frowning slightly.

Derek slowly turned his gaze toward him, glaring. No answer as usual, just the tense muscles and the effort to keep in a shout somehow. Maybe about how big idiot Stiles was. Everything is ok then, Stiles thought vaguely.

“Just askin’.” he rolled his eyes when Derek continued to just frown at him. So he decided to start the session and spoke the words.

Stiles was sure that their second session won’t be as intense as the first because he knew what’s going to happen. But he was so wrong. That he knew what’s going to happen didn’t make him _prepared_ at all.

The session left Stiles in more pain, also, it renewed his dread of Derek. The wolf was getting worse: more violent. Stiles was sure it isn’t entirely connected to their session either. Maybe it wasn’t Lydia who needed frequent phone calls but Derek. As the boy was catching that thought he dropped it when he was staring inside the mouth of a werewolf. Stiles couldn’t restrain his scream. It will never stop being scary.

This time he didn’t puke, and he noted it down as a victory. However, he felt worse than last time. Stiles had the nauseating feeling of deja vu as he was sitting on the ground leaning against the tire of his jeep.

“Did I say Smurfs yet?” he asked panting. He was trying to blink out the dots of his vision, because they tend to make driving dangerous. Not that Stiles felt the strength to drive just yet, he will need a few minutes. Hours. Days...

“A few times.” came Derek’s answer and Stiles noted how light his tone was. Almost playful.

“Oh, right...” Stiles sighed wincing a little how his voice sounded. Then he noticed Derek walking away. “Wait, Derek--” he called after him but the sharp pain in his side made him sound like he might throw up again. Though the wolf stopped and turned back toward the boy, with a confused expression. Stiles pushed himself up from the ground and stumbled toward the man, using every bit of strength he has left.

“The fuck are you doing, Stiles...” Stiles heard and he smiled triumphantly because Derek’s voice was near which meant he reached him. He should stop missing out intervals while he was walking, for real.

“Just...” the boy started looking up at the wolf not entirely seeing him properly. “You did well. Good job.” he told him breathless and reached out to pat his slightly sweaty shoulder. Derek’s skin wasn’t warm it was hot like burning with a fever. It must be a werewolf thing, Stiles wondered. At this time the boy’s vision was clear enough to spot the utter confusion on the wolf’s face. “I forgot this last time, but this is a part of the session...” Stiles explained flinching at the pain crawling up in his side again. He crouched over a bit to try and ease it. “Like, just reassuring you that you did a good job. And, well, you did good...” he said and took a few deep breaths. “But now I have to lie down.” he groaned and turned to stumble back to his car.

“Should I stay?” he heard Derek ask so quietly Stiles was surprised he could even hear it. But he already had the answer for that, because he knew this question will be asked. Derek wasn’t evil; he didn’t want to hurt others just because he felt like it. Stiles could predict that he’ll feel slightly guilty for beating him up regularly and then leaving. It was a natural reaction. The session triggered high emotions and that question was asked due to that. However, Stiles decided they won’t get more involved in this.

“No.” he said shortly and loud before he ducked into his jeep. He tried to find a comfortable spot on the back seat for that few minutes until he collects himself.

Stiles was prepared for this part of the session and wasn’t too fond about it. Especially when he realized he left his little survival-kit on the driver’s seat and he was too hurt to reach for it.

He wondered how every time he expected something bad it came out as ultra super bad. He anticipated the pain, but he didn’t expect it to be worse than last time. He gasped when it turned even more painful and made himself into a little shivering ball. Stiles could feel the depression creeping over him again and choking him in a way worse than Derek’s clawed fingers.

Then, the door of the jeep opened and Stiles cursed himself for not locking it because if they fucking rob him now he’ll never live it down. He swallowed back whatever that was crawling up his throat and pushed his upper body up to inform the thief that his father is the motherfucking sheriff and they will hunt them down so bad their grandchildren will be still in prison. But Stiles needed none of that speech because it wasn’t a robber sitting on the passenger’s seat but Derek.

The next few minutes was spending in the most awkward silence Stiles had ever experienced. His brows furrowed as he was staring into Derek’s green glare in the rearview mirror. Then the wolf averted his gaze as if he was looking for something.

“Where’s the list?” he asked.

“Wha...?” Stiles stuttered, being worried that he’s hallucinating at some point.

“The list, Stiles, where is the fucking list?!” Derek shouted spreading his arms as he turned to look at the boy this time. He was angry as shit, Stiles could tell.

“In the glove-compart- oh my god, Derek!” the boy groaned as the wolf almost tore the compartment open in his fiddling search for that piece of paper. He was either nervous or furious Stiles had no idea. All he knew that something was up. “What are you doing?” he asked, licking his lower lip. Watching Derek find the list made him feel a bit unsure, because for the first time he had no idea what the wolf was planning. Maybe he wanted to tear that list apart and finally kill Stiles? Or he just wanted to end these sessions? Stiles whimpered a little at the thought because it was like being slammed against a tree again. “Derek, listen...” he sighed as he fall back on the seat, trying to collect strength for his argument, but then a pen and the list hit him in the face. “Ow, dude, reduce the violence outside the session ‘kay...” he groaned and caught the paper before it fell. He noticed there was a new point scribbled under the already existing ones with Derek’s quick handwriting.

_10\. Derek won’t leave until Stiles REALLY says so_

Stiles frowned and read the line over and over again. Then he blinked for a few times to clear his vision. Because what the hell.

“Do you want me to read it for you?” Derek growled when he saw Stiles’ baffled expression in the mirror.

“No, no I can read it.” Stiles muttered. “We’re not during the session anymore, you don’t have to do this.” he added, because that was the truth. Their first rule was honesty after all.

“It’s still part of the session, isn’t it?” the wolf asked half turning his head toward the boy. “I’ll stay.” he added so quietly it made Stiles treasure those words more than it was healthy.

With Derek there the aftermath of the session was completely different. There was no conversation, no words only the wolf’s presence nearby. Stiles was less afraid of the _unknown_. Also, he didn’t feel that vulnerable like last time. It was twisted in a way. He was still scared of Derek, but right now there was no one else he would let to sit in the car with him. It became clear they shared something deeply intimate. Something which was so powerful it made Derek to submit to him for a second time and made him guard his rest. Stiles could understand people who turned to these methods for relief and safety now.

What a messed up but still beautiful world it was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot slightly acting up. Also, they need to find a new place for the sessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine!

 

“You smell like Stilinski.” Isaac remarked lightly when Derek arrived back to the pack nest from a session. He was planning to continue their training after all.

“I can smell whatever I choose.” the Alpha answered shutting the pup up with a glare. Then he halted and sniffed into the air frowning. His lips tightened as he slowly took a glance around the old railway station. Peter’s scent was everywhere.

“He was here?” he asked in a dark tone. Isaac looked down, nodding. Derek sighed and rubbed his face. Peter was coming to his territory far too often lately. Probably for Isaac.

Derek thought that after the kanima incident everything could go back to normal with him and his pack, now with Peter in it. They were strong, young and full of potential. How could they fall in only one night? They didn’t defeat the Alphas they were just given time. More specifically, they gave time to _Peter_.

Derek had no idea what those bastards told his uncle, but he wanted to be an Alpha again. _Badly_. Peter used all his tricks and his _words_ to take the pups one by one. They joined him, even if he was more involved with the Argents than Derek, and they probably won’t let him operate too long. Derek was devastated. Joining Peter’s pack was a worst case scenario and now both Erica and Boyd chose his uncle over him.

Derek was supposed to be Alpha, that was the plan, it should have worked.

But it didn’t.

If he could just convince Scott to join his pack, he would be set. Scott was strong, stronger and more of a wolf than he first thought. He had received his powers from Peter after all. But Scott was still confused and too caught up with his own “pack” to seriously consider joining any of the packs, and that gave Derek time.

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t leave the pack.” Isaac’s voice was distant, maybe a bit frightened, but full of courage. Derek frowned and looked up at the other wolf. The boy was leaning against one of the pillars of the building tilting his head to look into his Alpha’s face. “I won’t leave.” he repeated. Derek swallowed, nodding.

“You better.” he said before he could stop himself. That was the last one of his pack there, he might not give him much power but he was still _pack_ , he should treat him better.

Laura would be so much better in handling this, the wolf wondered and halted that thought. No, he shouldn’t go there. Suddenly Stiles’ words echoed in his head ‘Well done. Good job.’ and it shouldn’t make everything _ache_. He shook his head as if he could get rid of the thoughts physically, but of course it had no use.

“That’s it for today, rest!” he shouted at Isaac as he ducked into one of the old subway cars to get some privacy. Thinking about the stupid ‘sessions’ made him uneasy, especially when there was someone else there. It’s not that anyone could see inside his head so it was utterly stupid, but Derek still felt very exposed.

There were only two sessions so far, but the second one set something in him that he had never expected. _‘Well done. Good job.’_ It wasn’t out of sarcasm, it wasn’t to mock him, those words were there to _reassure_ him and tell him he was doing _good_ and he felt _happy_ hearing them. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly to make something of this.

There were a lot of issues he had to deal with suddenly. His only family, his uncle was on the loose again planning something big this time. Derek had no idea what because he wasn’t that smart. He couldn’t possibly look into the head of a genius madman. A very dark and hidden part of Derek admitted that he will never ever be like his uncle. He can’t even think like Peter and it made him frustrated. He was against an enemy who was once his family, and who knew him too well. No wonder he seemed to be the victor of this war.

When Boyd came back home like a lost puppy who didn’t have a place to go Derek was there first. He was there wanting to take him back into his pack without any consequences. Yet, the young wolf still chose Peter. Was he not familiar with Peter’s methods? Wasn’t he the one who first noticed Scott’s strength? Did he and Erica get _that broken_ under Derek’s leading that they ran to Peter just without a second thought?

The many questions jumbled Derek’s thoughts and caused his temper short. He knew he was irritable but he had no idea that he’d hurt someone because of it. He never intended to hurt Isaac, not out of training.

Then, in the middle of all this clusterfuck, that idiot of a Stiles had to come and mess him up more. That kid was weird before, but now he gave Derek the _creeps_.

_Hurt me, please._

At first, Derek thought Stiles was out of his fucking mind. He could have gotten anyone to beat him up. Hell, he just has to show his stupid face to anyone and start talking about… about anything, really. Broken nose guaranteed. But no, no, he had to make it complicated. He was talking about trust, and that ‘no’ means nothing and about how he needs pain and all that shit. Derek caught himself growling at these thoughts for some reason. Stiles has probably gone mad, he decided.

However, Derek wasn’t entirely sane either. He had accepted Stiles’ request, and all his stupid rules. The first session wasn’t a problem. Derek decided to beat Stiles up so bad he realizes how terrible his idea was. His plan seemed to work, the boy looked like a mess at the end of the session. The werewolf expected some kind of fulfillment about finally giving the kid the so needed beating, but it never happened. He felt the _worst_.

Stiles was kneeling in the dirt with that expression on his stupid face which Derek knew too well. He had seen it in the mirror for at least a million times. Wide eyed, scared and just so utterly lost. It was actually so _frightening_ it made Derek flee the moment he got dismissed and decided to never repeat this again. He’ll tell Stiles that this session and pain business is bullshit and it’s over.

And then, the second session had to make it all more complicated. Derek was surprised to get a text that demanded another session. He was sure that Stiles will dismiss it all, and when he didn’t, it puzzled the werewolf even more.

Stiles needed this and he was serious about it. He was serious about getting hurt and he was serious about using Derek for it. And Derek submitted to him. He fucking _submitted_ to him. It was only valid for the time of the session, but his deeper instincts were enraged. He was an Alpha now who never supposed to submit to _anyone_.

Derek banged his head against the window of the wagon in his frustration. The fact that he submitted was a sore spot on his wolf’s pride, also on his Alpha ego. But somewhere deep, deep inside he welcomed it as familiar feeling. The feeling of _home_. The wolf swallowed to wet his dry throat. ‘Home’ was running deeper than ‘ego’ or ‘pride’ and Stiles could poke at it.

_Well done. Good job._

“Don’t thank me you son of a…” the wolf groaned angrily.

He never wanted to continue this madness, he wasn’t even sure why he accepted. Maybe just so he can make Stiles realize how stupid he is. Yet he was the one falling into some kind of trap. A trap he wasn’t so fast on escaping from, because it felt almost happy, and it felt like home…

\--

“Uuuuuh…” Stiles swallowed eying the old man who was staring at them in utter horror a few feet away. Derek was kneeling on Stiles’ back pushing his face into the dry leaves of the forest grounds, panting hard. Stiles had no idea what they looked like, but it sure wasn’t promising. He figured Derek wasn’t wolfed out this time or their ‘visitor’ wouldn’t just stand around there like that. “Uuuuh Taekwondo… training…” Stiles attempted weakly, laughing as if there was nothing wrong. His lungs complained because Derek was _still_ kneeling on him.

“Take what…?” the man blinked, still not entirely sure if he should call the sheriff, run or grab some popcorn.

“It’s a martial arts… thing?” Stiles tried and nudged Derek to get the hell off him already, he needed to be presentable. Which was a huge task for him right now. They were in a middle of a session when they spotted the uncalled spectator and froze on the spot because none of them could even react. That was also the moment Stiles realized how out of this Earth their sessions were.  Also, that he didn’t know that old people walk the forest on Sunday mornings. “I know it looks violent, but it’s completely okay; it gets worse with my real coach, you see. Uh, Miguel here is my cousin and he’s helping me, um, to get better.” he rambled as Derek slowly got off of him so he stumbled on his feet, dusting his shirt and pants.

The man frowned at the boy, while Derek put on his ‘you-call-me-Miguel-one-more-time’ face and turned to sulk around.

“I see…” grandpa nodded slowly. “Just be careful, son.” he told them and turned to go on whatever he was doing here. Stiles was pissed as hell.

“We need a safer place.” he grumbled as they arrived back to the cars. The session was interrupted by a random by-passer which meant that the place he found wasn’t all that abandoned. Stiles decided to stop there so he didn’t get hurt that bad this time and he was extremely frustrated about it.

“The pack nest is not safe, Isaac will be able to tell your scent.” Derek offered and Stiles gave him a look.

“Helpful.” he snorted kicking at something on the ground, rubbing a sore spot on his neck. The wolf was just as frustrated as him, and he was having none of Stiles’ sarcasm this time.

“What do you want me to do, I can’t pull out a magical castle out of my ass, Stiles.” he barked, motioning around with his arm.

“Dude, first of all I don’t need anything that comes out of your ass, okay?” the boy shouted back, grimacing. “But you’re the creeper I thought you know some creeper places where no one goes, or I don’t know, a secret werewolf hideout or something, anything!” he sighed wincing a little. It earned him one of Derek’s best ‘I’ll kill you slowly and painfully’ look and Stiles could care less. Even if his heart skipped a beat from fear.

“There must be some abandoned storages or hangars around town, or maybe rent one, I don’t know. I don’t…” the boy ranted brushing his buzz cut aggravated as he was looking around for some kind of solution. It didn’t even occur to him that the choice of his place will become a problem.

There was a beat when both of them were just lost in thoughts. Then Derek spoke up.

“Listen, I might know a place.” His voice was softer than Stiles expected. The boy blinked at him, slightly surprised because… Well, he wasn’t even sure why exactly he was surprised that Derek knew a place because he just accused him to know all the creeper places. Which wasn’t actually nice. Anyway, solution?

“You do?” he asked still in disbelief.

Derek sighed and crossed his arms, nodding. He averted his gaze

“It’s at the opposite border of the town, deep in those woods. There is a camp there—“ he started, slightly uneasy, but Stiles couldn’t help to not to butt in.

“You mean the haunted Camp of Doom?”

Derek just glanced at the boy with a mix of confusion and anger.

“Camp of doom?” he asked slowly, really trying not to wolf out.

“Or you’d prefer the ‘Haunted Camp’ title?” Stiles snorted throwing his hand in the air. “That place is evil, things got killed there and they still stuck there. It’s haunted; I know the police never found anything but weird shit always happen around there, no one’s advised to go there you see? Not even for trial of courage, no. It’s a forbidden area, there are like--”

Derek was listening to Stiles’ rambling with a slight frown. It wasn’t entirely an angry expression, Stiles noticed. So he stopped describing how there must be some zombies around the place too.

“What?” he asked at last, motioning to the other to speak up.

“I guess you can indeed call the place haunted.” Derek muttered before he grabbed the boy and threw him into his car. Stiles only had time to realize he’s in Derek’s Camaro when they were already turning on the road.

“Dude what the hell, stop the car, I still have all my stuff back at my jeep! My phone, what if my dad’s calling or Scott—okay, actually I don’t care if Scott can’t reach me, but my dad—“

“Shut up.” Derek huffed glaring at the road, because at that speed he had no time to look at Stiles.

Well, Stiles never shut up. He was calling Derek a kidnapper who molests children and stalks people, and everything that came up in his dictionary about stalkers. When he was out of names to stick on the wolf he was talking about how he wished he could bleed on the neat car seats, and how cool the dashboard looked like and if those CDs are Derek’s because it’s so old school and everyone is listening to mp3s now, duh. He was so invested in Derek’s car that he almost didn’t notice when they arrived to the border of town, to the very forest that hid the haunted camp.

Stiles would lie if he were saying he was never interested in the haunted camp. When he got his jeep it was the first place he drove to, just to see. But he was too chicken to go inside. Ghosts, man. You do not mess with ghosts. Then there goes Derek “shut up” Hale and practically drags him there. They walked a fair amount deep into the woods to find the entrance of the place. Stiles was glad it was Sunday noon and not nighttime, the place must look terrifying without a proper light.

“If we’re getting killed by the angry ghost of some nun who was buried here I’m going to kill you too.” he warned the werewolf when he spotted the gate. The name of the camp was unreadable, but Stiles was sure it was called Camp of Doom and that’s it. The whole forest was practically the part of the camp. The territory was surrounded by a tall electric fence which probably wasn’t working anymore.

The gates were closed by a lock, but of course Derek had to break that off what made Stiles start a rant on how they will be the victim of some mass murderer ghost.

“Oh man, you shouldn’t mess with the dead—“ he whimpered as Derek walked further in. The area looked just like any other camp in the forests: with a dozen wooden cabins and the main building in the middle, surrounded by a few tables and benches made of wood. Over the buildings the deep forest looked like it will open up anytime and swallow everything that was made by human hands. The camp was already abandoned when Stiles was born and nature was doing her best to claim it back over the years. It looked the best horror movie material.

“My family bought it when the owners went bankrupt.” Stiles heard Derek’s words quietly. So he hurried to catch up to him stumbling on the rocks and twigs, because whenever Derek was talking it was fucking important.

“What? Your family? Your family bought a haunted camp?” he asked snorting, looking around. He wished he would have rock salt nearby suddenly.

“It wasn’t… haunted back then.” the wolf said, eying Stiles. The boy blinked but didn’t move his gaze. He felt like Derek just told him something important. There was something in his eyes; something that was unfamiliar for Stiles. “We needed to keep the curious people out.” The wolf added, and the boy frowned more as he was slowly grasping what Derek was trying to tell him.

When it hit him, it hit him _hard_.

“This is where you wolfed out at full moons!?” he asked gasping and looked around. Everything made so much sense now. It was Hale property. It was the _private playground_ of the Hale family.

“The younger ones, mostly.” Derek nodded, sighing. The distant look in his eyes made Stiles’ stomach drop. “We… we also had family picnics…” he started but stopped immediately at that word as if he didn’t intend to say it. It was just a passing thought he accidentally said out loud. The boy now understood why he said earlier that the place must be haunted for real. It’s been haunted by memories; ghosts of Derek’s past.

Stiles licked his lips as he was staring at the wolf’s brooding profile. He was standing somewhere private where he didn’t belong _at all_. Derek kept this place hidden even from his pack and yet, here he was. When he was just a little kid, he once trampled over his mother’s roses in their garden. It made her cry. The roses were the last flowers her grandmother had planted before she passed away and Stiles killed them because he was playing Cowboys and Indians. She told him he should play somewhere else, but he didn’t listen. She cried so much…

This was Derek’s rose garden what his family left him.

“Oh my god… I…” he started because he so didn’t want to think about his crying mother or the rose garden or anything like that, or the Hale family, and the children, and the fire and they died because of a madwoman, and Derek was alone, and Stiles was alone, because his mother... and his father… Stiles gasped and crouched over as the panic attack hit him. He reached out and grabbed the first thing he could hold on which was Derek’s leather jacket. The trees were closing in on him, and his skin was too tight, and everything was dancing around him, laughing at him, strangling him.

The fingers on his nape snapped him out of his panic. They were firm and warm, gently kneading at his neck in circles.

“I shouldn’t be here, I really shouldn’t…” Stiles gasped when he could finally talk, still crouched over with Derek’s fingers on his neck.

“It’s fine.” the wolf answered. “Are you good?” he asked, and Stiles took a deep breath and straightened up. He let go of Derek’s jacket and batted the hand away. The touch was too comfortable on his skin and he didn’t want to get too used to it. Also, ew, Derek patting him is gross.

“I-I’m fine, but will _you_ , dude? I mean, this is like--- like your- I don’t know-- we shouldn’t use it for the sessions.” Stiles stuttered fidgeting as danced a few feet away. He stretched his back and arms, as if he could shake off the feeling of uneasiness and the remaining panic attack.

This time Derek licked his lips, and pocketed his hands. He took a deep breath as he glanced around. His gaze lingered on the cabins and the woods behind them. The expression on his face was distant, but also a sad one. It was almost like he was saying some sort of goodbye. The boy was watching him for a while, then followed his gaze, taking a new look at the place too.

“It will be good.” Derek decided quietly. “Safe.”

Safe wasn’t exactly the word that came to mind at first, Stiles wondered, it was actually the opposite of safe. But knowing the background of the camp, he couldn’t help agreeing with the wolf.

Derek showed him around, mostly to check how much the camp has changed and which parts they could use. Apparently, the cabin nearest the main building wasn’t in too bad condition. The beds were covered in sheets to prevent them to get too much dust on them, they still looked usable. The shower had warm water even. They practically had everything they need for the sessions, and Stiles couldn’t believe he got this lucky. Then, another part of him also wanted to run to Scott and laugh into his face that he went to the Camp of Doom and left alive, and HAH who is the pussy now. But of course that victory needed to be kept in secret.

“You totally pulled the Shrieking Shack trick, dude.” Stiles remarked in the car when they were heading back the forest so the boy could pick his jeep up. He has calmed down already, even if he still had the feeling of doing something bad. It wasn’t something he could shake off so easily, and it made him faintly uncomfortable, thus rambling.

“What?” Derek frowned slightly, confused. The boy gaped at him.

“Harry Potter? Remus Lupin? The _werewolf_?” he tried. Derek just pulled his lips into a thin line and shook his head.

“There are werewolves in Harry Potter?”

“DON’T TELL ME YOU NEVER READ HARRY POTTER, OH MY GOD, EVERYONE READ HARRY POTTER.” Stiles gasped unable to even handle this piece of information. “Or saw the movies. Where did you live, under a rock?!”

Derek just sighed and checked the rearview mirror. If Stiles wouldn’t know better he’d think the wolf was embarrassed. It made the boy laugh, actually.

“Do you want to walk all the way back?” Derek asked casually then and Stiles tried to turn his laughter into some very ugly coughing. Totally failing.

\--

After dropping Stiles off, Derek decided to check on the pack nest at the railway station. As he expected, Isaac was nowhere to be found and he was sure the boy was hanging with either Deaton or Scott. Soon, he might lose the pup too, he wondered vaguely.

“Derek.” He heard the too familiar voice and spin around to face his uncle. He couldn’t smell when he arrived. And then he realized why Peter was visiting them so frequently despite it wasn’t his territory. His plans didn’t exactly involve just Isaac, but to leave his scent all over the building. It meant he could walk around freely without anyone noticing. Sly asshole.

Derek didn’t greet him just took a fighting stance, ready to jump. But Peter didn’t even flinch; indeed, his pose was relaxed and too confident. His chin up high like the prideful motherfucker he was. 

“I came to talk.” he said slowly, staring at his nephew intently.

“There is nothing we could possibly talk about.” Derek barked. He will never listen to this man again, he decided. No matter what the wolf law said no matter what reason dictated, Peter wasn’t family anymore, he was enemy. He tried to ignore the sudden rush of memories about family picnics and long summer days in the camp.

“There is, Derek.” the wolf started, pinning the other with his gaze. “We belong in one pack.”

“We don’t.”

“Stop lying to yourself. You know well you can’t continue this silly revolution of yours.” Peter smiled, almost kindly. It hurt to see that smile on him. Derek was still under the influence of the visit of the camp, and that smile, that peacefully kind smile rubbed him in the worst way possible. He swallowed to try and keep his heartbeat steady. “Let me have what I deserve, and we can start a new life, Derek. We leave Beacon Hills, go somewhere without hunters to start a new life with the pups… Don’t you want that?”

That was exactly Derek was dreaming about on long, dark nights. To live in a place where he doesn’t have to worry about the hunters, no need to worry about his murderous uncle, or his family anymore. To be able to trust people.

“No.” he said which was the biggest mistake he could do at this point. His heart skipped a beat, and Peter’s smirk grew. He always, always knew how to crack others. His words pierced the weakest point and slowly spreading the sickness until everything was lost, until the person broke. His words worked almost like the kanima’s poison, but they were fatal.

“What’s the point of continuing this anyway, hm?” Peter asked, stepping closer.

“You said you don’t want to be an Alpha anymore.” Derek decided to attack back. “What did they say to you?!”

Peter stopped in mid step and smiled a little, tilting his head to the side. His gaze got slightly cloudy as he was recalling the meeting with the Alpha pack.

“They told me if Beacon Hills won’t have a well established pack by the time they come back, there’s going be consequences.” he answered.

“We had a proper pack until you-”

“With two pups on the loose and one who refuses to submit?” Peter countered as if he would be a teacher. Or a _father_. He leaned his upper body toward Derek to hear this answer for that question. Derek growled angrily.

“I’m not hunted by the Argents at least--”

“And you _believe_ them?” Peter asked, pity ringing in his voice. The other’s growl grew louder and angrier. “It’s not me who’s causing trouble here, Derek. It’s _you_. Make up your mind, my little nephew, and let us start a new life.”

Peter’s words were echoing in Derek’s chest long after he’d left. Their goals were the same. Or were they? Was it really him who was too stuck up in his Alpha business that he didn’t want to give it up for a better life? Will their lives be really better? Peter’s words already started poisoning him, he could feel it. It made things complicated, and unsure.

Once again, Derek felt how alone he really was. He was an Alpha without a pack, he was a pup without a family. There was absolutely no one he could trust anymore. There was no one who could answer his doubts or sooth him that everything will be alright…

Or was it…?

_‘Well done. Good job.’_

\--

Stiles pulled up on the driveway in front of their house in the late afternoon. He felt fidgety and too high on his new experiences with the camp and Derek’s past. When the car stopped he jumped out stretch his limbs and just all in all to just do _something_. His ADHD was kicking in pretty hard that afternoon, probably because of the interrupted session and his panic attack. What a hectic day it was.

Then, his gaze fell on the empty flower bed under their front porch. It was a long time since it had any flowers at all… Stiles sometimes thought it was always empty, but of course that was a lie. Flowers were growing there in the past. Pretty, pretty roses. He had no idea how long he was just standing there, staring at the empty ground when a heavy hand sneaked on his shoulder. The touch was warm, and slightly shivering.

“Bad day?” his father asked in a low voice. Stiles blinked slowly, and turned his sad gaze toward him. He contemplated on his answer as he swallowed. His father was looking at him concerned and open to anything, _everything_ he wanted to say and Stiles wanted to tell him all.

“It’s okay, dad.” he answered at last, hating how his shaking voice betrayed him. He forcefully pulled his lips into a jester’s smile and patted his father lightly on the back before he turned to go into the house.

His father didn’t need to think he wasn’t okay. It wasn’t fair toward him. He did all in his powers to help Stiles, to be there for him and Stiles could do _nothing_ for him. The only thing that he could give his father was his smile, healthy food and the illusion that he was totally, absolutely, and fully alright.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot is acting up a bit more. I'm not saying I started to get carried away, but yes, I started to get carried away...

 

“Hey…” Stiles’ voice was weak and raspy and he looked messier than usual.

Even Derek could tell that he wasn’t going too easy on him this time. He tried not to pour all his aggression into the session, but the way the boy kept looking at him was bothering the wolf too much for some reason. The session was ugly and it left Stiles with a clawmark over his abdomen. Derek knew it won’t heal fast. Thankfully it wasn’t too deep, he was able to stop himself before anything worse happened. He was going in for the kill, and only stopped in the last moment. The boy was scared for his life for real and the shock caused his body to shut down. Stiles lost consciousness in the dirt, bleeding and completely broken.

Derek, after a little hesitation, scooped him up and carried him back to the cabin they occupied in the camp to tend his wounds. As he was thinking about it, it was the very first time he was helping Stiles mending his wounds. Usually the boy could do it on his own, grimacing, cursing and shivering, bitching at Derek and his claws and his werewolf strength, but he was able to take care of himself. This time, Derek was the one in charge for that, or else Stiles would have stuck with a nasty infection.

“Hey…” Stiles whimpered once again as Derek was lost in his thoughts, staring at the bandaged cut on the boy’s skin.

“You fainted.” Derek muttered quietly, not looking into the boy’s face. He laid Stiles down on one of the two beds in the cabin, and took off his shirt so he could clean and tend his injury. In the moment he finished patching the boy up, he woke up. His expression showed that he’s slowly registering the sharp pain and not welcoming it at all.

“How long…” Stiles panted as his breath picked up.

“Bit less than an hour.” the wolf answered quietly and he registered a faint tingling of guilt. It wasn’t like he wanted to kill, or even hurt Stiles. He was ordered. He was doing what the boy told him. Only then he remembered that Stiles never said the safe word, he was unconscious before he could.

Derek was watching as the boy started chocking on his breath and picked up where he left off: in the middle of fear and panic. He was looking around, trying to see where he was and he had the scent of such utter fear the wolf’s heart almost broke.

“Stiles…” he started.

“You wanted to kill me…” Stiles stuttered between pants, his body trembling on the mattress.

“I wanted to kill.” the wolf admitted. “But not you.” he added in case the boy’s brain wasn’t exactly working properly either.

“Who.” Stiles’ question wasn’t a question it was more like a word he barked at the wolf.

“My uncle.”

“Why.”

Derek frowned. It should be obvious why he wanted to kill Peter. He was threatening his pack, and he was sneaking around making him confused and feeding off his power. There was no other way to deal with him than to kill him. But Stiles wasn’t in the state to reason, he thought.

“Don’t touch it.” he sighed when he saw the boy stroking his fingers over the bandage as if that would make the pain go away. Before Derek could think about it he reached and took the boy’s hand to pull it away from his wound. The moment they touched, Stiles grabbed onto his hand with his cold, shivering fingers. And Derek didn’t mind.

“It just hurts.” Stiles whimpered as he lifted his other hand to rub at his eyes like a little child.

“I thought you like pain.” the wolf remarked without any sharpness in his voice.

_“No I don’t!_ ” the boy shouted suddenly. “I hate pain, I hate getting hurt, I hate it all! I don’t like pain at all, Derek, I don’t… like it at all…” he shouted between pants as he threw his arm over his eyes to hide. The wolf knew this session business was very important for Stiles, and something he really never talked to anyone else, or did with anyone else, so he felt very insecure about it. He often averted his gaze, or hid his face when they were talking about it.

“I hate pain…” Stiles continued quietly, his hand still holding onto Derek’s fingers as if he was afraid he’d leave. But he’d never do that. Never again. “I… just need it. I… need it… for relief…” he whimpered, pulling up his knees a little to try and shield himself from the newest wave of hurt. Derek’s brows furrowed at that. All this time, he was sure that the boy wanted to get hurt just because of the feeling of pain, or because of ordering someone around. Apparently, it wasn’t for that but for… relief?

“I can… take away the pain.” he started suddenly, as if he’d be in a trance. As if it wasn’t his mouth which said those words but someone else’s.

“No, no pills no!” Stiles shouted shaking his head, and still covering his eyes with his arm.

“Stiles!” Derek countered in a louder voice. “I said I can take the pain away!” he repeated and to prove it he placed his hand gently over the bandage and worked his magic. His mother taught him this little trick. Since his family was gone he hadn’t practiced it. It brought back too many memories and feelings. Also, there was no one who deserved it in his opinion. Under his palm, he could feel the faint trembling of the boy, the quick beating of his terrified heart, and the sobbing breaths he was taking. A few seconds later, Derek could sense the pain as he slowly dragged it out of Stiles’ body. Of course, he couldn’t take all his pain away, but he could reduce it to a level which was bearable. A few seconds later the boy seemed to calm down.

“How did you do that?” came the whispered question which finally got Derek to look into Stiles’ face. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelashes wet from tears, but his expression was more curious now.

“It’s something werewolves can do.” Derek answered and he heard Stiles’ heart beating faster. “Is it frightening?” he asked.

“Yes.” the boy answered quietly. So quietly, Derek wasn’t sure he ever heard him like this. He sighed, guilt catching him again. He wasn’t intended to scare the boy again after what he had done. “Did I say Smurfs yet?”

“No.”

“Smurfs.”

Derek sighed, and he didn’t notice how tense he was until that point. He took a deep breath to relax and the same time Stiles fingers sneaked up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“You did well, Derek. Well done.” sounded the reassuring and Derek snorted through his nose. His smile wasn’t happy as he hung his head. “No, Derek, look at me…” Stiles told him and he turned to look at him without hesitation. “You did nothing wrong.” the boy repeated, staring at him intently. His expression was honest, and his heartbeat still frightened, but he wasn’t lying.

“Do you really think so?” the wolf couldn’t help asking. He was the stronger one here, he was the one with the exceptional healing ability, he was the Alpha and yet right then and there the boy seemed to be so much more than him. Stiles nodded, blinking slowly.

“Good job.” he said as his lips curled into a weak smile.

Derek only noticed their tangled fingers when Stiles was already sleeping.

\--

The night when Stiles got the wound on his stomach was a weird experience, despite what he and Derek were doing for a few months now. They started the sessions around the end of spring break, and now it was summer vacation. If someone would have told Stiles that hey dude, you’re going to have BDSM sessions with a werewolf only half a year go, he would have laughed into their faces. But there they were, still continuing this twisted dance of pain. And he wasn’t about to stop. His dad was talking about drug addicts to him, and he could identify all the symptoms of addiction, and he could bravely say that he was addicted. The sessions meant an escape, and the relief which washed over him when the pain was fading was his drug. And he had the best dealer in town.

However, the night of the wound was different. Derek showed him he could give him _directly_ what he wanted: relief from pain. It was a fearsome experience on many levels. Personally, for Stiles, relief was a huge deal. It was what pushed him into lying not just to his father but to his friends about the bruises they discovered on him, or why he was sometimes absent from school. He was dealing with all that just for a few seconds of relief, and Derek could provide that to him. Derek was even more _powerful_ than he first thought and that wasn’t exactly what scared him. It made it all horrifying that Stiles _dominated_ this intense creature. The night of revelations it was.

It was also the first night he jerked off thinking about Derek. If anyone was asking Stiles how it happened he wouldn’t have an answer how it exactly happened. He was just lying in bed, thinking back about the aftercare, thinking about how the wolf put his huge, strong hand on his stomach soothing his pain. His body reacted to the memory in the strangest way: he burned up not from fever but from arousal. It was just a memory, yet it threw him in a state where he wasn’t even thinking about how he’s stepping over a line.

He ducked under the covers and held onto that thought, while his hands were fumbling with his pajama pants. The whimper Stiles let out when his fingers brushed over his heated flesh was _pathetic_ to his ears. So needy, and yet he couldn’t stop. His body demanded release, and his brain refused to show him anything else than Derek’s hands, or other parts of his body. He remembered the wolf’s touch, the heat of his fingers, and the shining sweat on his neck after sessions and Stiles’ mouth watered at the desire to lick it clean. He buried his face into the mattress as release washed over him in a sharp wave and he was afraid he’s going to be lost in bliss forever.

When blood was finally circulating back to his brain, and pain stabbed at his abdomen he let out a trembling sigh. Stiles wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew this was different from before. His body wasn’t the only thing that reacted to Derek but something darker, something he would call more _adult_ part of him also got too tangled up with the wolf.

“Shit, shit shit…” he mumbled into the sheets as he felt himself react again. It was scary, it was new and strange and he was so lost on how to even handle it. Stiles was in deep trouble.

\--

“I’ll be with Scott today.” Stiles told his father as he sat down to their breakfast table with his toast. “Those bitches on XBOX need to learn the rage of Stileminator uh- Stilesinator-“ yes, he never ever will find a good combination of ‘Stiles’ and ‘Terminator’…Maybe if he would use his real name…?

His father just looked up from his morning paper and put down his coffee cup.

“I really hope you’re drinking the soy milk with that.” Stiles warned him with a full mouth, pointing at the mug. But when his father didn’t pick up their usual bickering over healthy lifestyle he stopped chewing. “What?” he asked, swallowing the dry bite wincing as it scratched his throat and reached for his orange juice to wash it down.

“Son, I’d like you to get me your urine sample.” came the request together with the small bottle and Stiles spluttered juice all over the table.

“DAD!” he coughed. “What the hell!?” he asked motioning toward the bottle on the table with his hands and put on his best baffled expression.

The sheriff winced a little and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. His face was mirroring concern and sadness at the same time.

“Just do what I said.” he sighed, looking at his son. Stiles cocked up his chin, taking on the challenge. He was prepared that one day his father will act on his suspicion, but _like this_?

“Dad, I’m not taking drugs.” he tried, picking up the little bottle waving it around. “You should go with this to Jackson, you know, I’m sure there must be something shady going on with h—“

“Stiles, it isn’t just me who noticed the change in you.” the sheriff looked up, searching his son’s face. Stiles realized that he’s practically _interrogating_ him. “So, you better tell me what’s going on, or…” the man sighed, motioning toward the sample bottle.

“Or you’ll force me to tell you I’m taking drugs, yeah that’s really fair dad.” Stiles remarked, slamming the bottle back on the table. “I am not taking drugs, believe me. Search my room if you want, go on!”

“Your friends, mostly Scott’s worrying about you for a while now. He called me a few days earlier.” his father tried, clearly not wanting to do this. However, Mr. Stilinski was the hero type. He was suffering for his loved ones, even if he had to hurt them in his attempt to save them.

“Since when do you two talk behind my back!?” Stiles snapped. Suddenly, he felt angrier than he should have. It even scared him how easily he just yelled at his father while he had _no right_ to. But there was no turning back now.

“Son, if there is anything I can help you with…” the sheriff started, standing up to get to Stiles, but the boy didn’t want to hear any of that.

“There is _nothing_ you can help me with!” he answered and took his keys to leave.

“I’m not done, young man!” his father started, grabbing his wrist.

“But I’m done with you!” the boy yelled back tearing his hand out of the too weak grip and ran. His keychain dug into his palm as he squeezed it in frustration. His goal wasn’t his jeep but Scott’s house. He didn’t want to sit behind the wheel now, he just wanted to _run_. He figured his frustration was partly sign of withdrawal. It was more than two weeks since their last session and he wasn’t sure that it won’t even stretch to three weeks. His wound was healing pretty slowly, and he didn’t want to start another session until it didn’t close up properly. But first, he had to yell at Scott, and yell at him _bad_.

Scott was his best friends since they were little; he was always there, all the time. They went through a lot of drama and mess together and he was the last person who Stiles expected to turn him in. Well, he didn’t turn him in of course, but raised his father’s suspicion which was a bitch to escape from. Especially that he was running out of good excuses. Scott wasn’t smart when he was worrying, but this was way over that line.

Running didn’t help. Stiles was still just as angry when he ran away from his father. He got into the McCall house without a problem. He had a key after all. Mrs. McCall was in the hospital that’s why they put Battlefield day for today so they can bitch at all the newbs on full volume. But Stiles was sure there will fight on a different battlefield this time.

“What the fuck did you tell my dad?!” he asked as he barged into Scott’s room and froze on the spot. “And what the _hell_ are you people doing here?!” he asked motioning around to the gang. Practically their current pack was all there: Scott, Allison, Isaac and Derek. Stiles could tell that he was stumbled in during a pretty tense moment, judging by the faces, but he didn’t particularly care. He had business to take care of.

“What happened?” Allison asked worried as she stepped closer.

“Your boyfriend is an asshole that happened.” Stiles answered pointing toward Scott who joined Allison.

“Why, what did I do?” he asked frowning.

“You called my dad that I was taking drugs?!”

“I didn’t say him that! I just told him you’re acting strange.“ Scott answered angrily. “You- you’re like you’re not entirely here, and you look beaten up all the time! You disappear for hours to somewhere I can’t reach you! I was—I thought something was up!”

“And you called the sheriff.” Stiles snorted. “That was so smart Scott, I’m surprised you’re still not president of the United fucking States. You could have asked me!”

“But you wouldn’t have told me!” Scott growled which made his friend immediately shut up. Scott was right. Since when was Scott right?! What happened? Stiles blinked at him and Allison, trying to make sense of all this. It was like waking from a dream, as if he just opened his eyes and seeing them for the first time in reality.

“We’re just worried.” Allison started reaching out to gently stroke Stiles’ upper arm.

“’We’?” the boy asked, taking a step back so he was out of reach. He was still trying to catch up to what exactly was happening. Was he really changing? How long they noticed this? How did he change?

“Even Lydia noticed that something is wrong with you.” Scott tried. “You just…”

“You got distant.” Isaac started. He was standing next to Derek at the window with crossed arms. The Alpha was eying something on the floor, trying to really pretend he’s not there. And Stiles didn’t blame him.

“But… but it’s nothing that’s…” Stiles sighed, running his hand through his hair. It had gotten a bit longer now and he wasn’t getting around cutting it just yet. “You guys.” he started, looking about a bit helpless. “First of all, I’m not taking drugs, but thanks Scott now I definitely have to get tested.”

“Sorry, dude…” the boy muttered guiltily.

“And second…” Stiles continued, his eyes flickered to Derek just for a moment. “It’s nothing harmful. I swear it’s not as bad as you think it is. Trust me…”

Isaac tilted his head to the side, squinting his eyes. Scott exchanged a look with Allison, and then nodded.

“Will you ever tell me?” he asked quietly. Stiles was eying the wolf, biting at his lower lip.

“I’m not sure.” he admitted quietly. His answer sparked confusion in his friend’s eyes and Stiles hated himself for it. But this is how he wanted it. He wasn’t ready to talk about his needs to anyone, and he wasn’t sure there ever will be a time when he openly talks about it to Scott. “So, why are you guys here?” he started, mostly to change the topic and give Scott time to recover.

Now it was Derek’s turn to look enraged, but he just crossed his arms, growling frustrated.

“There was a shift in power.” he said, still not looking up. Everyone was falling in a deep silence. Stiles felt he was the only one who didn’t really catch the possible Star Wars reference.

“The Dark Side’s acting up?” he tried.

“Derek’s not Alpha anymore.” Scott blurted out, glancing at the werewolf.

“It’s probably Peter now.” the wolf nodded, looking up at Stiles. The boy knew what does this mean. He joined the others in their brooding. So Peter could finally gain back the powers of the Alpha, he could start building his pack now. That was… brilliant.

“So, he’s the Alpha now, hurray?” Stiles started then after too long silence. “Wasn’t that his plan?”

“It was.” Derek nodded. “His plan was to take back the Alpha status and leave.”

“He would?” Scott blinked at the other wolf. Stiles adored him for his naivety, but he was sure that Peter’s plan was more complex than that.

“What did he say exactly?” Stiles asked Derek.

“He was saying that the Alpha pack—“ Isaac started, but Stiles interrupted him.

“I asked Derek.” he said, not tearing his gaze away from the wolf’s. There was a moment of silence as the others collected themselves of the sudden change in charge. Derek sighed and looked away.

“He said if the Alphas won’t find a proper pack in Beacon Hills when they come back, there will be consequences. He wants to spare us from that, so he wants to collect all the wolves here and leave.” Stiles’ bullshit detector was beeping.

“Why he couldn’t leave you the Alpha then?” Stiles asked. “Why did he have to mess with the hierarchy again?!”

“I don’t know!” Derek answered spreading his arms, just as frustrated as Stiles felt.

“Something’s not right here…” he boy sighed, suddenly very tired. He decided to take a break and sat down on Scott’s bed. “Something’s…” he muttered groaning.

“I’ll check the house tonight.” Derek told Isaac and Scott.  “We have to be careful. He can bite anyone to expand his pack and become stronger. He won’t hesitate to do that.”

“I’ll go with you.” Scott offered, making both Stiles and Allison perk up in concern.

“Me too.” Isaac said.

From that point it didn’t matter how much Stiles and Allison objected, the wolves didn’t listen. The game was on and they were about to set it.

\--

Stiles wondered why things always happened at the same fucking time. Never just one little thing at a time, no, it always had to be huge, life changing things all at once. Like right now, his father was suspicious about him, and the werewolf packs were about to collide. Exactly how he imagined the end of his summer vacation. But at least he could do something about one of those things: he could apologize to his father.

He felt awful after that fight in the morning, and his guilt prevented him to just let it go. Stiles knew his father was working late but he decided to get that stupid sample he wanted and wait for him. He didn’t want to sleep on it he wanted to end the fight with his father as soon as possible even if it ends him being grounded for the rest of summer. (For like two weeks, hah.) So when he was done he put the sample bottle, now full, on their coffee table in the living room and threw himself down on the couch. Emotional dramas were sure a tiring thing, he wondered half asleep.

He had no idea how long he was asleep, but he jolted awake when he felt a claw gently scratch over his cheek and there was warm breath on his face. A werewolf was staring back at him in the dark, and it definitely wasn’t Derek.

“Wake up Sleeping Beauty.” Peter cooed ever so gently, making Stiles’ hair on his neck stand. “Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

“Whatever you want the password’s definitely ‘allison’—“ Stiles started and he really wished for a filter between his mouth and brain now, he really did. Peter just sent him a dry look, not appreciating his humor. The boy vaguely wondered what the fuck was his life.

“Don’t play games I’m sure you know why I’m here.” Peter started, sitting down on the coffee table, facing the boy. Stiles pouted and shook his head, motioning around with his arm.

“For your sanity?” he asked snorting, but he regretted it the next moment when a wolfed out Peter pinned him down the couch, curling his strong fingers around his neck. His eyes grasped Stiles’ attention even in the middle of the pain. The wolf’s eyes were yellow. Not red.

Peter wasn’t the Alpha.

But he was angry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot is still acting up. Not betaed, all mistakes are mine!

Stiles learned a lot about werewolves since Scott got turned into one. He read about their healing ability he witnessed their powers, and their magic, even saw them transform and attack. And now he discovered they are just as weak against the knee-in-the-nut move as anyone else. He knew it was a low tactic, but when your life was on the line you were only thinking of survival. So while the wolf was whining on the floor, Stiles scrambled away and tried to get his phone from his pocket to call Derek and run. Before he could do any of that, he’s got tackled by the werewolf and both he and the wooden floor both gave a painful sound as his jaw knocked into it.

Peter pinned him down by kneeling on his back, and Stiles didn’t want to have flashbacks of their sessions with Derek. It was not the time.

“Let them go, let them come to me…” he heard the wolf’s low, growling words near his ear. They had no meaning at all to him; maybe Peter wasn’t even talking to _him_.

“What..?” the boy’s stutter turned into a shout when claws dug into his side, making him see white. He couldn’t help the pained cries as he was trashing around, trying to get away from Peter’s clawed grasp.

“You never wanted this. Dealing with the supernatural is not your sport, Stiles. Try more lacrosse instead.” the wolf hissed. “I don’t want to do this either, but Derek had to make it complicated, didn’t he? Let’s be a family again? Let’s rebuild the pack? What a naïve fairytale.”

The boy panted, going completely still. He realized that Peter _snapped_. He has gone purely mad, and he was about to kill him. In his own house, in the living room where his father will see his gutted out body. That image gave him strength to turn his head and try to look into the eyes of the werewolf, like he had a death wish.

“Wasn’t it you who wanted to make a new pack!?” he asked in a shrieking voice, nails digging into the hard floor under him. He didn’t expect Peter to actually answer, but the wolf did.

“I thought you’re smarter than this, Stiles.” Peter said, his voice hollow. “I’ve never wanted a new pack. Just to see them burn again? To lose them again? You know too well how painful it is to lose someone you love, don’t you, ‘Stiles’ Stilinski?”

Stiles whimpered and shut his eyes to make it stop. He had no time and place to think about _any of that_ right now, that was exactly what Peter wanted. He won’t go to Hell broken, oh no.

“Then why…” he panted, searching for Peter’s gaze again.

“Power. When I have all the pack, I’ll be invincible. Their blood will make me the strongest Alpha. I wouldn’t need a pack anymore. No more weak points anymore.” the werewolf smiled as he was talking about it, and Stiles was once again glad for evil genius madmen’s desire to speak about their evil plans. It got him some time. But for what? The others were at the Hale house; they won’t find him in time.

“Their blood…?” he asked confused, but that was the point until the wolf’s patience lasted. He opened his mouth to take a bite out of the boy’s neck.

Instead he bit down on an arrow.

From then on everything went in slow motion. Stiles felt like he wasn’t even there, but watching the whole scene through someone else’s eyes. Peter tore the arrow out of his mouth and rose to take on Allison. The movement freed Stiles’ hands and he rolled on his back to grab onto the jacket of the wolf to keep him at place until the girl fires another arrow. He knew she was going easy on Peter because if she wasn’t careful she’ll hurt Stiles. None of them wanted that, really.

Stiles watched as two more arrows dug through Peter’s torso making him look even crazier. His eyes weren’t sane anymore and blood dripped from his mouth and from his other wounds on the floor. But the boy never let him go and somehow that could keep Peter immobile. A howl broke the silence, and Stiles had no idea how, but he recognized Derek’s signal. He was near and he was _pissed_. Peter seemed to know the howl too and had the strangest reaction to it. He was smiling.

It scared Stiles more than his snarl.

“I wasn’t lying about them, though.” he said, smiling down at the boy. “They will come back, and they will tempt you too.” he whispered, staring into Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles had no idea why Peter didn’t kill him then and there. He had time to do it, but there was this hesitation in his movements, this unsure… something. It wasn’t even noticeable, only when Stiles was thinking back about the incident from a few days afar. Peter wasn’t just acting mad, but slightly _helpless_. Despite that, he still put up a huge fight against Derek, destroying half the Stilinski living room while Allison helped Stiles escape from the house. If anyone ever would call her anything other than strong, beautiful, heroic Stiles will have to bash their faces in. It was his duty now he realized since, well, Allison saved his stupid life. He owed her big time. Also, it showed something about her insight on mad werewolf tactics that she decided to check on Stiles. None of the werewolves were thinking about that, and that was _reassuring_ , really. And they call Stiles the idiot.

At the end of the night Peter died. Stiles wasn’t there when it happened, he was busy hugging the living hell out of his dad. Scott told him how the rest of the night went later. Apparently, Peter tried to hide in the woods, but he was too badly injured and the pack caught up to him.

“Derek was the one killing him?” Stiles asked quietly, and Scott nodded. His friend sighed relieved. Scott mustn’t have blood on his hands or claws, no matter what were the circumstances. Nor Isaac. None of them deserved the guilt of killing someone, not even Derek, actually. But there was no helping on that one anymore. Someone had to take one for the pack.

“And are you okay?” Scott asked concerned as he was looking around Stiles’ hospital room. After the attack, they called the police saying some mad person had broken in and attacked him. Allison was the witness that it indeed happened and she helped Stiles escape the house. From then on none of them had any idea what happened. That was the official version. Stiles knew his father didn’t buy it, but for the rest of the police it was just enough to be satisfied except not enough to find anything. They brought the boy to the hospital for a night to stitch up his wound and see if there were any other injuries. Mrs. McCall raised an eyebrow at the scar on his abdomen but said nothing about it and Stiles was sure he’ll be hearing more about it from his father.

“I’m always okay, dude.” Stiles chuckled. Actually, he felt just like after sessions. Broken, depressed and very much hurt. However, it also meant that relief will come. It should have been horrible that he was used to such treatment, but not anymore. He was way over that stage, way over. Scott was smiling at him a little and the boy hated how his lies were not that effective on people anymore. “It’ll be okay. The psycho’s no longer messes with our heads at least.” he added just to remind Scott about the only good thing that came out of all this.

Allison came by a bit later worried out of her mind, and Stiles didn’t blame her. She was still affected by the loss of his mother and nothing, absolutely _nothing_ could make it better. Hospitals were a trigger. Stiles was familiar with that feeling, too much even. But Allison was stronger than him. So much stronger… And he will live, so she didn’t have to lose more people important for her and the boy was the most thankful for that.

\--

Stiles was put in private room with guards at the door. He was left alone with only his thoughts. He told his father that he will be fine for a few more hours while he still had some work to do. Mr. Stilinski was the best sheriff after all and the fact that his own son was involved (again) shouldn’t stop him to work on the case because he was a professional motherfucker. Stiles was the most proud of him. He hated that he couldn’t properly apologize for their fight. It was only one day ago but for Stiles it seemed like ages past.

Also, he told Scott to be glad that Peter has gone for good, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his words. The pack’s blood which makes him invincible… and ‘them’ who will come back and tempt him too. What on Earth these things meant? Stiles had no idea how long he was just staring at the ceiling of the room analyzing Peter’s last words when he spotted a shadow. He didn’t know how long Derek was standing there but Stiles didn’t feel surprise at his presence. Deep inside he knew the wolf will come. He slowly turned on his side to look at him wincing as the stitches pulled on his wound. In the darkness he couldn’t see the man’s expression; he just felt the sinister emotions pulsing under his skin.

Derek slowly stepped to the bed and sat down on the chair next to it. His movements were heavy, sluggish and just so tired. Stiles was watching him with half lidded eyes, not saying anything. It was not the time of words just yet. The wolf sighed and leaned his head down on the bed looking someplace on the sheets, but Stiles was sure he was seeing something entirely else. They stayed like that for a while, just getting used to the silence. Then the boy reached out and ever so gently dug his fingers into Derek’s hair, stroking his head calmingly. It made the wolf shiver.

“You did well.” Stiles whispered and Derek sucked in a quick breath.

“I killed the last of my family.” he whispered in a broken voice. The boy licked his lips and moved closer. He could feel Derek’s breath ghosting over his neck as he angled his body where he was almost curled around his head. Stiles was silent for a while, trying to collect his thoughts, trying to come up with words of… courage? Sympathy? He himself wasn’t sure either. But suddenly, even surprising himself, he started talking.

“Your uncle died in the fire.” he started, his fingers gently running through Derek’s hair. “That man who came back wasn’t him. It was only his troubled ghost. You did nothing wrong, you let him to rest.”

The werewolf finally looked at him with blank eyes. Stiles knew he won’t cry, he couldn’t possibly cry anymore. His tears must have died together with his family. So he cried for Derek. He gave all his tears to him, to his family and to everything he had lost. Because Derek deserved them and he deserved so much more.

Stiles said nothing while he silently wept for Derek and stroked his messy hair. They didn’t need words, not anymore. They immediately fell into the aftercare and this time not only Stiles was in pain but Derek, too. However the wolf wasn’t hurting physically, but somewhere deeper where Stiles wasn’t sure he can reach.

\--

Derek stayed until he heard the sheriff approach Stiles’ room a few hours later. He didn’t need more time than that. He wasn’t healed, he will never heal but he was ready to go on. Stiles fell asleep not long before with his hand still in the wolf’s hair. Derek sighed as he took the boy’s wrist to gently put his hand down the bed and he sat straight up. He casted one more hesitant glance at the boy.

The wolf could drain physical pain. But Stiles had the ability to take away the pain of his soul for a little while. If only he knew… Derek sighed softly and held Stiles’ hand between his fingers before he slowly leaned down to lay a butterfly light kiss on the boy’s long fingers.

He knew Stiles wouldn’t approve of this gesture, but he had no words or other actions which could show Stiles how _thankful_ he was to him. For everything. And how sorry he was. For everything…

\--

As it was expected, after Peter’s attack Stiles’ life didn’t get easier. He got indeed grounded for the rest of the summer and he had to help to rebuild the living room. He was complaining all day about how his father _dare_ force him to work while he was still healing, but in reality he felt grateful for the bonding time. The sheriff took a few days off for the project which meant they were together all day, renovating the living room, watching stupid sit-coms on TV, drinking strictly alcohol free beer, and all in all just be together. Healing together. Stiles liked those days more than he would like to admit. His father seemed to forgive him, but he didn’t _forget_. Stiles knew. Maybe one day, he’ll come clean about everything, but this wasn’t that day.

After everything, Boyd and Erica got around too. In the absence of an Alpha, they were not obligated to go back to Derek’s side, and that freed them from a lot of guilt.

The strangest thing about it was that Stiles got a call from Derek. He asked what he should do with the two runaways. Stiles snorted and asked why the wolf was even curious about what he has to say. But he gave his opinion: let them go, because they wanted to go anyway, but keep their places in the pack. So they have a home to come back to. He figured that’s just fair toward them.

Before the first day of school, Erica and Boyd left for real. Without stumbling into any Alpha pack this time. Without anyone stopping them, or making them guilty about their choice. Their absence stung a bit more than Stiles expected, but that was always the case with goodbyes. They always hurt. They escorted them to the woods with Scott, Derek, and Isaac waving them goodbye.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Scott asked Stiles when the two wolves disappeared in the woods.

“Aaah, well…” Stiles sighed puffing up his cheeks. “Not sure, Scott. Actually.” he said shrugging and turned to walk back to their cars. Boyd and Erica weren’t happy in Beacon Hills, and happiness was a strong master.

“But the Alphas will.” they heard Derek’s mutter next to them. Stiles shivered at the thought. When Boyd and Erica came back, they said that Peter sometimes spoke to them about the Alphas. About how genius their plans were, and how he didn’t think of that earlier. Of course, when they would come back or what was the plan, he never said. It got more confusing with his death, Stiles wondered. The others might have calmed down, but he couldn’t. He felt like something was still hanging above their heads and if he won’t see it soon it will crush them more than Peter’s madness. He really, really wanted it to be only his paranoia being worse.

“Dude, come on.” Scott groaned, looking at the other wolf. “We don’t know that for sure. “

“They will come back.” Derek glared at Scott. “They left Peter here to do something for _them_. He wanted the pack for _them_.”

The blood of the pack, Stiles thought. He didn’t speak about Peter’s last words to anyone, because at first he didn’t think they mattered much. But as the others put the pieces together he realized that his words might mean something very important. But what…? Peter’s plan was to take over the pack and… then what? Present them to the Alphas on a silver plate? Stiles forced himself not to laugh out loud at the stupid joke about the _silver_ and plate and the- okay, focus Stiles, focus. Peter needed a pack, needed their blood. He probably wanted to kill them. And then he’d be invincible. Okay, _none_ of that made sense to Stiles. He gave a frustrated sound.

“But what can you do without an Alpha anyway?” he asked, mostly to clear his own head from these thoughts for a moment.

The wolves looked at him. Isaac frowned a little.

“There… is an Alpha.” he started. Stiles tilted his head blinking. Now, that was news to him.

“Derek?” he tried, looking at the werewolf who just sighed.

“No…” Derek said, clearing his throat. “The… there is still this shifting…” he started, frustrated. It was clear that he was searching for words on how to express it.

“Like, there is one, but he’s still… nowhere.” Scott tried, scratching the back of his head.

“You can feel it too?” Stiles asked staring at his friend intently, and he nodded. “Then it’s you.”

“What?!” Isaac gasped in synch with Scott. The two pups were looking at him as if he had just grown another head. Stiles rubbed his forehead.

“You were an Omega until now, no? You had nothing to do with any of the werewolf packs and now you suddenly _feel_ that there is an Alpha, even if you didn’t join either Peter or Derek? Dude, it’s you. It’ll be you.” he explained swinging his arm around.

“Is it possible?” Scott asked, looking at Derek who was glaring his head off with the anger of thousand suns. If Stiles wasn’t afraid for his life he would have taken a picture because his expression was so angry, it turned funny. He never answered Scott. “We should ask Deaton…” Scott tried.

They agreed they will visit Deaton the next day after school. Stiles was glad for that because he had some questions too, mostly about werewolf blood and why would another werewolf need it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, what's with this werewolf blood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine!

School.

The endless source of landmines, Stiles grudgingly thought as he was waiting for Scott by the entrance. Summer seemed like a distant memory already in the light of the useless amount of information they will about to squeeze into their heads, all in vain. Viva la revolution of free studying! It’s not that Stiles didn’t like studying things that were interesting but most of the stuff the school was teaching wasn’t interesting.

Wait, that girl just winked at him?

The boy gave a surprised sound at the back of his throat at the small gesture, mostly because he noticed a bunch of other glances at his way. People tried not to stare and they ended up staring more. What the hell. Stiles subtly checked if his fly was open, or if there were stains on his shirt, or someone put an ‘I’m an idiot’ sign on him again or something, but he found nothing.

“Good morning, Stiles.” he heard Lydia’s voice and when he looked up there was the girl standing in front of him. The real one. Probably.

“Oh my god.” he gasped backing away, because really, how the _hell_ do you even react to Lydia Martin standing in front of you? The whole school could see them interacting, and Lydia never speaks with people in public without a reason.

“No, no the correct response to that is ‘Good morning Lydia, you look wonderful today’.” she sighed cheerfully.

“I-I-I rather go with, uh, g-good m-mor—“ Stiles stuttered running his hand through his hair.

“Alright don’t strain yourself, you’ll get used to it.” Lydia smiled too sweetly and continued on her way to greet other half-assed bastards like Stiles probably, because what the hell.

“Stiles, are you okay, you look… sweaty.” Allison asked, frowning at the boy when he was still trying to collect himself from stuttering sweaty goo.

“I-I-I’m- L-Lydia was—talking. To me.” Stiles wheezed still staring at the school entrance.

“I guess she noticed you look cool today.” his friend shrugged, smiling a little.

“I do?” Stiles asked whirling around to stare at Allison. He could tell when people lied if he was searching really hard. He learned the tricks from his dad, but the girl wasn’t lying. “You seriously just said that I’m cool.” he blinked, still in utter disbelief.

“I did.” she nodded smiling.

That day, Stiles was walking down the hallway, pointing at people as if he’d known them and just overall had a pretty weird day of popularity. Until Jackson had enough of his shit and slammed him against his locker before lacrosse practice. Finally, at least some things never change.

“Sounds like a hectic day.” Deaton remarked smiling when Stiles told him how people reacted to his longer hair. When they discussed it with Scott that was the only logical explanation of why people suddenly noticed Stiles. Especially Lydia. “As you were saying…?” the vet turned to Scott then.

“Oh, yes, so. The Alpha…” he started exchanging a look with Stiles. “So it’s around but it’s not awake yet, and… I think it’s me. Is it possible?”

Deaton looked up at Scott, frowning at his words thoughtfully.

“Bitten wolves rarely become Alphas, Scott.” he told him. “Especially without killing an Alpha.”

“Yes, but… I feel the pack too. I haven’t felt it before.”

“That could just mean you’re not an Omega anymore.” the vet answered patiently. Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why is this so important for you?”

“There’s…” the boy winced and looked at Stiles. His friend cleared his throat too, biting at his lower lip nodding. “There’s an Alpha pack, and… they will come back. Probably to fight with us.”

“Aaah, I see.” Deaton muttered concerned. “You’ll need an Alpha to fight as a pack.”

“Is there any kind of trick to know who it is?” Stiles tried. “Some mojo, or whatever.”

“Werewolves should pinpoint their Alphas instinctively.” the vet answered still in deep thought. “It’s already strange you don’t know who it is.”

“Maybe it’s Derek and he’s just messing with us.” Scott snorted.

“Yeah right, because he would just sit around quietly laughing into his hands about a shitty joke like this.” Stiles sighed, rubbing his forehead. “No, he’s definitely not an Alpha now.”

The three of them fell thoughtfully silent then. Until Stiles remembered he had questions too. This Alpha business wasn’t going anywhere anyway.

“Aaaanyway…” he started, clearing his throat. “So I was reading about werewolves, and their blood aaaand it just struck me that, I don’t know, does werewolf blood have any power or… something?” he asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. He winced at the look Scott and Deaton gave him.

“Their blood?” Scott snorted.

“Hey, I’m just curious, okay? It’s for your sake too.” His friend said, spreading his arms.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Stiles, but the blood of the dead werewolf mixed with the right ingredients can bear great powers. They use it as a protection in some cultures.” Deaton started slowly, eying the boy.

 Protection. Stiles bit in his lips as he was thinking about the word, and what it could mean.

“Does it do anything to werewolves? I mean… another werewolf’s blood to another?”

“Well, there is a legend about an Alpha who used his pack’s blood to gain immortality.”

“Is this true?” Scott asked frowning.

“It’s a legend, of course it’s not true.” Stiles sighed annoyed, but it was just to cover his sudden uneasiness. “Did his pack die or—“

“The Alpha itself killed them.”

“Yes, right, because it couldn’t have been anything else.” the boy sighed hanging his head.

Stiles wasn’t sure he was happy about the information he received. Of course, it wasn’t surprising that Peter wanted to kill the pack, but that he would do it for possible _immortality_? How mad he exactly was? And what the Alphas have to do with it? Questions, questions, questions. They were buzzing in his head, making him unable to think about anything else.

The only thing Stiles could focus on right now, besides the riddle Peter left him, was that he finally could start the sessions again with Derek. It was more than a month since their latest session, mostly because Stiles was still recovering from injuries. But when his need hit again, it hit him hard and uncomfortable, so the boy knew that he’s ready to continue. Since school started, he could use the studying in the library excuse again. Oh, the little things.

\--

The night sky was brighter than Stiles ever remembered it. He refused to believe that his vision was fooling him. The stars were really that shiny and the moon was really that huge. The camp didn’t have much light around, so he had to rely on Derek’s super-werewolf vision and his torch to find his way around. But the less light meant the night sky was free from any kind of containment. Either way, he was looking up at the most beautiful stars right now. It made him giddy.

“’Ts strange your eyes are blue ‘n not red…” he started chuckling weakly. He could barely push air into his lungs after the session, let alone talk or laugh. But he still did it. Because he was an idiot. They were both laying next to each other with Derek on one of the wooden tables of the camp, looking at the stars for a while now in silence. It was so peaceful, Stiles wondered. The sessions were still frightening and full of pain. The boy’s pain tolerance grew during the months and he needed longer, heavier sessions for what he had wanted.

The aftercare was a different thing. It was a part of the session, the rules were still working. Especially the most important one: honesty. In the aftercare, Stiles could say anything, talk about anything, and Derek listened. In his weaker moments he ranted about his doubts of refusing the bite, or bits about the time he lost his mother, or how he’s a terrible son to his father. He trusted Derek with these things, and he never had to be disappointed.

They grew closer, Stiles could tell. He wasn’t afraid of Derek anymore, and the wolf wasn’t ignoring him. The strange thing was, it lasted only during the sessions. Whenever they met outside the sessions, Stiles still felt a dim fear in his chest, and Derek was still treating him like Scott’s idiotic human friend. Good thing, it didn’t confuse Stiles… much.

“Shut up.” Derek sighed tired.

“Sore spot, huh? Derek ‘Beta’ Hale…” Stiles giggled, wondering when he got drunk. There must have been something in the air. The wolf just huffed next to him. “Lydia was talking to me in public.” the boy started suddenly. “It’s not like she wasn’t talking to me before, believe me, she was talking to me a lot, but lately, since school started again, she’s like, talking to me in front of people, you know? People know we’re buddies now. Lydia gorgeous Martin, wow…” he rambled lifting his hand to draw random patterns on the stars.

“It was love at first sight, man…” he continued and he swore he heard Derek laugh softly next to him. “My dad said that, son… Son, you never let go of the girl who took your heart at first sight. You chase her until she realizes that her heart is yours.” he whispered, closing one of his eyes as he was trying to catch a star between his fingers.

“Greet her with loud words. Smile at her, even when she doesn’t smile back, because it makes her happy anyway. Bring her flowers. Ask how her day was. Leave her alone when she wants to be alone. Always look her in the eye. Never lie to her… Compliment her dress.” he rambled. “My dad must have been a ladies man.” he smiled goofily. “What about your dad, what did he say about girls?”

Stiles could barely believe it, but his question made Derek chuckle.

“My father…” the wolf started as he was looking up at the sky with a distant gaze. “He…” he licked his lips as he was thinking about it. “He was a vulgar talker.” he admitted at last.

“Oh, come on man, I’ll be eighteen next year, I can handle vulgarity. Especially about girls, I can handle everything about girls.” Stiles snorted hitting Derek’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

The wolf nodded, with an amused expression on his face, but still took his time to answer.

“He said… Slam the bitch down on the table, spread her thighs and show her what a real man is.” he muttered. Stiles couldn’t help his snort.

“Your dad wasn’t a man of words either, huh.” he remarked casting a glance at Derek. “If you look like him, I’m not surprised.” he added. “You dudes never need words to get ladies anyway, while me and my dad… we kinda do. See, it’s for survival.” he nodded.

“I guess.” Derek agreed as he slipped his hand under the back of his head. Stiles turned his head and squinted his eyes at the wolf in the dark.

“My dad would still kick your dad’s ass.” he decided.

\--

At the end of the session, Derek decided to stay in the camp for a while even after Stiles had to go back home. His father was keeping him on a firm schedule, and the wolf was amazed that even with that tight security the boy could still cut hours for himself to disappear and get himself beaten up. His insistence was amazing, Derek had to admit.

Half a year has passed since Stiles first told him those words.

_Blue moon._

_Well done._

Half a year since he was answering the call of the kid, and fulfilled his request… his command to hurt him. Derek frowned, realizing how it became a part of his life. A routine. Yet, it didn’t become easier. Whenever Stiles groaned from pain, or spit blood when he bit his tongue or lost consciousness, Derek felt the biggest scum of the Earth. But at the end of every session, Stiles pat him on the shoulder, or stroked his hair and told him that it’s fine, it’s okay, well done, good job.

And Derek loved it. For those few seconds when the boy touched him, and reassured him, he felt light, and free. He could tap the feeling of belonging, and the feeling of home. He treasured it so much to the point he felt addicted.

Then, at one point he caught himself wanting to not to just hurt Stiles. He wanted to touch him too; pat his shoulder, stroke his hair, telling him that it will be alright… But it wasn’t his role he was not the one these words belonged to. Yet, the desire to say them grew in him more and more.

Maybe one day…

\--

“DUDE.”

“…”

“DID YOU JUST---“

“……….”

“DID YOU JUST LICK ME?”

Stiles’ face was hilarious, his eyes were almost popping out of his head and his lips were stuck in the most comical grimace Derek has ever seen. The boy was laying on the ground propped on his forearms, while the wolf was hovering over him on all fours.

“Um.” Derek cleared his throat and turned his head away to lick his lips, still tasting Stiles on his tongue.

“You _did_ , didn’t you!?” Stiles gasped and scrambled to his feet a bit wobbly, kicking dry leaves around. There was a cut on his collarbone which was indeed the subject of Derek’s interest. The boy got it the very beginning of the session when he stumbled over a bush. Stupid boy. Stupid bush. Stupid cut.

“I did, yes, but-“ the wolf stood up, holding up his hands.

“EWW!” Stiles grimaced and wiped the place Derek molested. “What the hell, Derek, what if it gets infected, or something, or- oh my god, if it turns me, I’m going to kick your werewolf ass so bad…” he rambled angrily.

“No, it won’t turn you.” Derek started, using his best ‘Stiles-calm-the-fuck-down’ voice he polished over all these months. “It… It was instinct.” he explained sighing.

“Instinct, right, and it’s acting up just now?!” Stiles snorted grimacing from disgust. “Oh my god.” he groaned.

“My heat is near.” Derek said.

“Your hea- Okay, now you’re just shitting me.” Stiles gaped, but shut up at the glare of the wolf. He motioned him to go on. If he wants. That is.

“It’s… It’s fall. It’s usually the time when the animal part takes over a bit more.”

“To reproduce?” the boy asked with crossed arms.

“Mostly.”

“And you licked me because…?”

“Because you were hurt. I wanted to… I wanted to make it better.”

“Huh.” The look on Stiles’ face was unreadable. Mostly disbelief, actually. The wolf had no idea what he expected, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed over it.

Either way, Derek was glad that there was not much discussion about the Licking Incident as Stiles named it. Unfortunately, it will be always remembered, thanks to their constantly growing list of rules.

_1\. Honesty!_

_2\. No Biting!_

_3. ~~No clawing!~~ Clawing is OK ~~~~_

_4\. No sex!_

_5\. No breaking bones!_

_6\. No visible harm on the face!_

_7\. KEEP IT SECRET!_

_8\. Stiles’ in charge!_

_9\. WORDS: Blue moon, Smurfs, Wolf_

_10\. Derek won’t leave until Stiles_ REALLY says so  
11\. ~~No choking! Choking is OK!~~ NO CHOKING!!!  
12\. No licking!

Derek watched as Stiles wrote their newest rule on the crumpled paper and vaguely wondered what the hell his life was.

\--

Derek wasn’t the only one who was left with sore feelings after the Licking Incident. Stiles felt strange about it too as he was lying in bed that night. It wasn’t about the actual licking. The licking was just something that fueled his never ending wet dreams about Derek which he didn’t really need, thank you. All this was messed up without those too, but there was no helping about it now.

The part which made his chest clench was the part where Derek licked him because _he wanted to make it better_. Basically, he just said he didn’t want to hurt Stiles. The boy shook his head to try and clear his head from the sudden panic that gripped him.

He needed Derek to hurt him. Yet, the wolf hinted he doesn’t want to.

“No, Derek, no…” Stiles muttered to himself, burying his face into his pillow. He didn’t want Derek to care…

\--

“Did you know that werewolves go into heat?!” Scott whispered urgently.

“I did, and don’t ask how I know.” Stiles answered snorting while he was trying to do his homework. They still had three minutes until Chemistry class starts, he should be able to finish it during that time, right? He only vaguely wondered why Scott is asking- “Oh my god, you’re in heat?!” he gasped suddenly, looking up at his friend.

Scott stared back at him like a kicked puppy.

“How bad is it?” Stiles asked, frowning, and not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“It’s… really, really bad.” his friend answered. Now that Stiles took another look at him, he indeed seemed fidgety. “Mr. Argent doesn’t let me near Allison until it’s done!” That also explains why Allison was absent. Well, in Mr. Argent’s place Stiles would have done the same. Who needed a horny and dangerous animal to hump their daughter after all…

“Wow, that… That sucks, man.” Stiles agreed, biting in his lips because it shouldn’t be funny. He knew how it is to walk around with a boner in school, and it’s not fun. Only when it happened to someone else, okay it was hilarious.

“It’s not funny!” Scott hissed, stomping his feet in frustration, and somehow it made it more amusing. Oh, Stiles will never let him live this down.

They got interrupted by the bell that signed the start of the class. Harris stepped into the classroom, walking to his desk and put down his bag.

“Mr. Stilinski.” he started slowly as he reached for a chalk. “You’re excused for today, pack up and visit the principal’s office.”

“What?! But I didn’t know anything!” Stiles gasped wondering just how long Mr. Harris will pick on him, seriously now.

“I don’t know about that, but your father’s in the hospital. A nurse is here to pick you up and take you to him.” the teacher answered, not even looking at the boy while he started writing that day’s lesson.

At his teacher’s words, Stiles jumped from his chair so fast he hit his knee in the table. He threw his books into his bag and sprinted out of the classroom, dashing down the corridor. He was glad his body could still do that because his mind became a grey numbness.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The endgame starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, early update!
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

All the way to the hospital Stiles’ mind was racing. The nurse who picked him up wasn’t Mrs. McCall even if he half expected her to be involved in this. So he couldn’t exactly ask what the hell happened because she wouldn’t tell him. It could have been anything: his dad being shot, some werewolf was around and bit him, or a fugitive held him hostage, or he’s got into a fight again, or some asshole thought it’s funny to hurt him for money… really anything. As Stiles was thinking about all those scenarios his anger grew. He swore that whoever hurt his father was going to pay, and pay with their blood and limbs, and eyes; he’s going to ask help from Derek and they will hunt the bastard down _so bad_ he’ll never be able to hurt anyone. His head was buzzing at the thoughts, and his blood was pumping in his ears from rage as they stepped inside the hospital and walked down the corridor.

Stiles expected everything as they guided him to the room his father was. Tubes and machines and beeping, and blood and his unconscious father lying there in a coma, he really expected everything.

But not what he actually got.

“Oh, come on…” the sheriff sighed when he spotted Stiles in the doorway. “I told them to not to bring you.” Well, he looked alive so far. There were no machines, just one monitoring his heart rate. There were no tubes, no infusion, just a glass of water on the nightstand.

“Dad?” Stiles frowned hurrying over to the bed, still utterly confused. “What is it, what happened?” his mouth was asking those questions on autopilot because his mind was blank as a sheet of paper suddenly. It helped him cope with the sudden images and memories wanting to bash in his skull and trample all over him leaving nothing on their way just dull ache and guilt.

“It’s nothing, son.” the sheriff started, sighing as he sat up in his bed. “I just felt a little out of breath and my colleagues insisted I come here for the day.” He really looked tired, Stiles wondered. But he always looked tired, he always…

“Don’t forget the sharp pain, and the numbness in your left arm.” Mrs. McCall’s soft scolding tone pulled Stiles out of trance. She wasn’t carrying any food or medicine, apparently she was just checking on them.

“You had a heart attack!?” Stiles gasped.

“It was just a light one…”

“There is no such thing as a ‘light heart attack’, dad, a heart attack is still a heart attack!” the boy shouted.

“Now, calm down Stiles, we don’t want him to suffer another one, do we?” Mrs. McCall tried on a light tone of voice, and put her hands on the boy’s tense shoulders.

“If such a pretty nurse will help me after it, I don’t mind.” the sheriff smiled kindly and Stiles jumped from his chair, brushing Scott mother’s hands off of him.

“Oh no no no, you are so not allowed to flirt now!” he told him, pointing at his father. “And you don’t let him, oh my god, he’s in punishment now, he wanted to lie to me!” he turned to Mrs. McCall.

“Oooh, sorry I thought we brought in the father and not the son.” she smiled. “You better behave now.” He told the patient and turned to go back to her work. “I’ll check on you later again.” she added.

Stiles sighed, rubbing his eyes and he collapsed back on the chair. He felt like a fool for getting so worked up over this. He thought someone was attacking his father, or worse. Then it happens it’s a treat he can’t really predict. A sickness where there is no one to blame, only himself.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he heard his father’s low words.

“What is?” the boy sighed, not really listening.

“When they lie to you and you know it.”

Stiles had never been shot in his life. He got hit, pounced on, clawed, almost bitten, paralyzed, but taking a bullet was still off his list. Yet, he could finally imagine how it feels. Because his father’s words were just like gunshots and they hurt, and they hurt deep. He boy froze, eying some stain on the floor.

“Can we not do this now?” he pleaded at last, still not daring to look up. He was tapping the floor with his foot and his fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his plaid shirt. But the buzzing, that awful buzzing under his skin grew worse. “Please.” He added hating how his voice broke.

And his father let him.

\--

Since they were keeping the sheriff in the hospital for one day, Stiles had to sleep over at Scott. No matter how he insisted he can do well on his own, his dad and Scott’s mother didn’t want to hear any of that. Yes, they were talking easily they weren’t the ones who had to sleep in the room of a horny werewolf, thank you very much.

“Any life scarring experiences and we’re not friends anymore.” Stiles warned Scott as he laid his sleeping bag down on his floor. “I’m serious, dude.”

“It’s okay, I think I’ll be okay for tonight…” Scott said but Stiles wasn’t convinced.

“Whatever dude, just try to make it as private as possible.” he said making a pushing motion with his hand as if trying to already wave away the possible memories of this night. His friend chuckled nodding, but then he fell silent. Which wasn’t a good thing. No, Scott, don’t be silent, Stiles pleaded.

“How’s your dad?” he asked, and Stiles wished he’d rather stayed silent now.

“He says he’s fine, and your mother says he’ll be fine. But he’ll need a few days rest.” he answered, lying down.

The silence was filled with tension. Scott wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure, Stiles could tell. He probably wanted to say that if anything happens to Mr. Stilinski he’d be more than happy to take Stiles as his brother. He wanted to say he wanted to be there for him, to be a good friend and he wanted to apologize for all the shit he pulled on Stiles, and for the shit he’ll probably pull in the future. He didn’t have to say it, because Stiles knew.

“Hey, Scott…” he started, sitting up to look at his friend. “Thanks.” he muttered, nodding, smiling a little. The wolf smiled back, sighing. They were not hugging because that was for pussies and girls, they just did a brofist because that was cool.

\--

Stiles knew how to sneak in and out of Scott’s room. He practiced that art since they were little, and perfected his technique during the years. So he had no problem in sneaking out of the boy’s room. The problem was that Scott must have heard him. He was a werewolf, a werewolf in heat with sharper instincts and there was no way he won’t hear when Stiles was sneaking out. The question was if he tries to stop him, or asks where he’s going, or follows him…

“Please don’t.” Stiles whispered before he stepped out on the window. In no time he was walking away from the house, texting.

A few minutes later a black car pulled up next to him and he got in without any hesitation. The night wasn’t cold but the wind still promised chilly weather for the next few days. Inside Derek’s car it was hot, but not from the aircon, it was the wolf himself. A wolf in heat. Which also explained the strange scent that engulfed Stiles when he sat into the car. It wasn’t a smell he knew, but yet it filled him with safety.

He didn’t look at Derek, or told him where to go, he should already know.

Derek was supposed to know where Stiles wanted to go, and what he wanted to do. Yet, he still stopped the car just right before they reached the camp. They were parking on the side of the road, where there were no streetlights and only the blue night and trees surrounded them.

“Why did you stop?” Stiles asked quietly, biting his nails.

“You’re still hurt from last time.” the wolf answered in a deep voice. “It was only a few days ago.”

The answer made Stiles turn his head finally and glaring at Derek. He just noticed how tired the wolf looked with his slumped shoulders. Probably because badass werewolves sleep too. But Stiles didn’t care, not right now.

“Start the car.” he demanded quietly.

“No.” Derek’s gaze weren’t on him but on the road ahead of them, and that angered Stiles more than he wanted to admit.

“Blue moon.” Stiles hissed, and he could _feel_ Derek’s muscles tense up. Fine, if he won’t drive them to the camp then they have to do it here, the boy decided. He took off his hoodie and got out of the car, slamming the door hard. Derek followed, and Stiles didn’t run. He had no desire to run. He had no desire to do anything else; he just wanted it to hurt, and he wanted it _bad_. He stopped a few feet away from the car and turned toward the wolf, waiting for him to attack. But Derek was not moving.

“Wolf.” he answered after a moment of heavy silence.

“What did you say?” Stiles frowned in disbelief. ‘Wolf’ was Derek’s safe word for ‘when he doesn’t want to hurt Stiles’, which he never used before. This was the first time.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Derek answered, shaking his head.

“SHUT UP!” the boy snapped. It was his nightmare coming true… He didn’t want more people in his life who _cared_. He didn’t want to be glad for someone’s existence. He didn’t want others to hurt him with their kindness, to touch him and then disappear, he had enough of that. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else who he loved either… He had enough of _everything_.

“Stiles…” the wolf sighed, stepping closer.

“I need it, Derek! For the relief!” Stiles started suddenly. “I told you, I need it. I want it!” he stomped, shouting every word. Then he ran his hand through his hair, spinning around on his heels. Once again, he couldn’t face Derek while he was talking about pain. “That… physical pain is not… it’s not forever. It fades. It heals! It heals, Derek.” he whimpered, turning back to the wolf. Stiles thought if he’s clearly stating his reasons the wolf won’t deny his needs. The fact that Derek was refusing to hurt him made him desperate. “It gets better.” he repeated whispering.

“But this pain…” Stiles started, suddenly shouting again, grabbing his t-shirt on his own chest. “It’s not. It will never fade. Time will make it better, _bullshit_! Time makes nothing better!”

Derek’s expression showed so much sympathy it actually choked the boy.

“Physical pain is so much easier to handle.” Stiles continued, being aware that his breathing was uneven and he was coming down with a panic attack. He felt his restrain snap, he couldn’t stop himself anymore. His thoughts got chaotic. “I’m killing my father, Derek. It’s me who’s killing him every day, and I’m going to lose him soon too and it will be all my fault! I couldn’t protect Lydia from Peter that time, and I can’t do chicken shit for Scott and all I can do is watch and hope that they make it out alive!” he wheezed, motioning around with his arms. “This guilt, this pain will never, ever fade!”

“And now you…” he panted, motioning toward Derek. “Don’t do this, don’t be kind. I can’t take that. Just give me what I want!” he yelled so loud everything was echoing his roar which was almost like a howl.

Derek looked like he’s in pain too as he was eying the boy. He needed a few seconds to answer.

“Wolf.” he said at last, and Stiles saw red. He didn’t care that he won’t be able to even scratch that werewolf bastard over there, he had to do _something_. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he threw all his skin and bones against Derek, but he definitely didn’t expect it to work. The wolf lost his balance and fell against the car’s engine hood slipping down with Stiles on a top of him. Well, both were surprised.

“WHY!” the boy practically barked while Derek was trying to wrestle him off of him, but Stiles permanently attached himself to his tank top and never intended to let go.

“Because this isn’t what you need right now!” he snarled.

“Don’t ever tell me what I need!” Stiles yelled as the wolf turned him over, but he was having _none_ of that. He shouted not from pain, but from rage and pushed at Derek’s chest again, and trashed around so wildly that all his muscles were burning but he could roll them over again. “You have no right to say that, you’re the worst, I trusted you I asked you because I could trust you!” he yelled against Derek’s face who became completely still under him, panting. He was staring wide eyed at Stiles, who was glaring back, breathing just as hard and pinning the wolf with his gaze.

Then Derek turned his head away, swallowing. The movement drew Stiles’ attention to his neck which was suddenly in front of his nose. The boy had no idea why and how he decided it’s a good idea, but he opened his mouth and gave the sweaty, salty tasting skin a long, hard lick.

Derek’s taste on his tongue made him realize that this was the smell in the car. It was Derek’s scent. The discovery was like a wake-up call, it gave Stiles’ back his common sense, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it yet.

He swallowed then gasped, still against Derek’s skin because too many things happened at once. One of those things was he realized how extremely turned on he felt, and the wolf was in similar shape. Stiles’ first instinct was to pull back to reduce the contact, but Derek had other ideas. He cupped the back of the boy’s head and pulled him closer. As their lips met, Stiles gave a desperate sound. It wasn’t a session, or the aftercare. It was just a… Well, it was a kiss for starters.

They were kissing. And Stiles wasn’t pulling away, quite the opposite. It didn’t matter he still couldn’t breathe properly, he was kissing the living soul out of Derek Hale. The wolf was the one who pushed them up in a sitting position and the new angle and the friction sent waves of pleasure over the boy as he moaned into their kiss. Then the wolf flicked his tongue over his lower lip and Hell got loose. Stiles couldn’t stop kissing back, claiming Derek’s mouth with his tongue. Both of his hands were fisted in the dark locks of the wolf’s hair as if he was afraid he’d push him away. He later would deny that he was whimpering while he was kissing Derek, but he totally did. He couldn’t stop.

Then the wolf’s hand traveled south and pulled the boy tighter against himself. It made Stiles suddenly draw back, gasping. He was out of breath as he was staring at Derek’s flushed, _flushed_ face, his feverish eyes looking at him questioningly. Stiles was vaguely aware that he was straddling one of the wolf’s thighs and their hips were pressed tightly together. And all he wanted to do is grind against Derek until _that ache_ goes away.

The strangest thing was that it wasn’t awkward. It felt right which confused Stiles the more. He wanted it to be awkward, to be able to pull away and dismiss the whole thing on his hormones and Derek’s heat. It would have been so much easier then. But no, he had to go and make it complicated by accepting it all. These feelings were stuck with him forever now. One more person on his list. One more crack on his sanity.

“Say something…” Derek’s voice was soft and almost whiny like a puppy’s. It didn’t suit him, Stiles decided.

“I…” Stiles was speechless. He looked around for answers, but the dark forest or the car, not even Derek could provide him any. “You turned me into you, I- I can’t speak.” he said then, letting go of a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

“Are you done?” the wolf asked.

“Yes.” Stiles stuttered, being hit by the worst déjà vu of his life.

“Will you be okay?”

“I will.”

This was exactly how their first conversation went at the end of their first session. But Stiles didn’t want this to end like that he didn’t want to be left alone. Yet, this wasn’t a session…

“Sorry.” he mumbled at last, realizing he was yelling awful things at Derek just now. The wolf just shook his head without a word.

Later Derek helped Stiles back to his car whose limbs were violently trembling from the moment he tried to stand up. Also, he felt a fever coming. Nice. He didn’t go back to Scott because it was already early morning, instead he texted him that he’s fine he just left early to visit his father. He made a quick stop by his house to shower and change clothes, because they still wrestled in the dirt with Derek.

Now yes, Derek. Derek. Under him. Over him. With him.

No, Stiles don’t go there. Just don’t.

\--

Thankfully, Stiles’ father looked more than well rested when he visited him in the morning. He got him breakfast too! Yum, fresh tomatoes and whole grain bread strictly with tea. No, not coffee. Tea. They spent their breakfast in the hospital, and Stiles offered he’ll come by after school to help his father go back home. After being a bit calmer that his father seemed well, he decided to walk to school this time.

Stiles couldn’t sleep much during the night, and that few minutes nap he took on the way back in Derek’s car wasn’t helping much either. He felt extremely exhausted, and every muscle in his body was screaming in muscle strain. Because he had to go and try to beat the shit out of a werewolf then end up kissing him. Things got complicated a lot more, Stiles wondered as he tried to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes.

“Stiles Stilinski?” he heard his name suddenly and halted. When he looked around, searching for the person who called him. The only one he could see was that weird looking dude on the other side of the road. But he couldn’t possibly call him, because it wasn’t a yell. “It’s you, isn’t it?” the voice spoke again, and Stiles’ stomach dropped. It was indeed that weird looking dude, but his voice came as if he was standing next to him.

For Stiles ‘weird looking’ and ‘Calvin Klein model’ meant the same thing sometimes.

“I’m not talking to strangers.” the boy snorted and attempted to speedwalk out of the scene, but the exact man who called him now stood in front of him, and Stiles knew he was screwed.

“Shit.” he huffed, backing away, biting in his lips. “Let me guess: werewolf.” he said not being able to help his half hysteric laugh. What was his life anyway. The man smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me introduce myself.” he started in a deep voice, not looking away from the boy. “My name is Deucalion.”

“Pleasure.” Stiles grumbled. “Polite werewolf.”

“Alpha.” Decualion smiled amused, eying the boy as if he would be a piece of meat. But it worth it because Stiles’ expression turned from unimpressed to scared so quick it surprised him too. The Alpha pack was back. Just like Peter told him so. And they were still in need of their own Alpha. This was fucking brilliant. “Now, that I got your attention, will you spare me some of your time?”

Stiles wanted to say that ‘Deucalion’ or who the fuck could go and shove it, but he shouldn’t…

“Fuck off.” Damn it, his mouth to brain filter is still not perfect. But the Alpha wasn’t taken aback.

“May as well.” he sighed stepping closer. “Did Peter tell you everything?” he asked.

“He tried to kill me, so I wasn’t exactly listening, you know?” the boy answered, cocking his chin up. “I guess you already know he’s dead.” he snorted, and the wolf just shrugged like a shy little boy caught in the act.

“The weak falls and the strong stands.” he whispered. “Do you know everything? You’re a smart boy, I’m sure you figured out what was the pact.” he said, motioning toward Stiles to talk. The boy licked his lips, and took a deep breath.

“You… you don’t have a pack.” he started and the wolf nodded. “You… I think you killed them, and used their blood for immortality.” his last word made Deucalion laugh and the boy rolled his eyes, being glad to amuse a fucking Alpha, thank you, really.

“Not immortality, no.” the wolf said, shaking his head. “But for power. The blood lets us use the power of the whole pack. All by ourselves.”

“Is it necessary to kill them?” Stiles asked, because he was curious. And he didn’t mind just chatting with dangerous Alpha werewolves about killing packs. Every Sunday of his life.

“Of course, it’s part of the deal.” the wolf nodded as if it would be some kind of grocery list talk.

“You told Peter to be the Alpha and kill his pack to join you.” Stiles stated spreading one of his arms. “Well it didn’t work. There are no other psycho werewolves here for you, so leave.”

“I was interested in Peter, yes, but he was proven weak. Now I have another potential candidate.” Deucalion started, crossing his arms.

“I’m sure they won’t be interested.” Stiles snorted and sidestepped the man to go on his way. He had enough of these silly werewolf games. If Peter couldn’t tempt him, and Derek couldn’t intimidate him, then there was nothing he could fall for anymore, he decided.

“Have you ever felt helpless, Stiles? Like, you wanted to do something, anything, but you couldn’t?” the Alpha started in a raised voice. “With everything happening around you, around a small human like you, didn’t you wish to bear more power?”

“No, dude, I’m not playing these mind games with you.” Stiles grumbled, still walking away.

“You didn’t wish for power that could save lives, or even give it back?” the wolf chuckled and Stiles halted. That creature there wasn’t just talking about power to fight with enemies he was tempting him with something huge, Jedi-like power. And he wasn’t lying. Stiles had no idea how he knew that, he just knew.

The boy could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he was remembering Peter’s words. _They will come and they will tempt you too._ This was it. Peter wasn’t all that mad after all. The boy wondered why they tempted him of them all, he wasn’t even a werewolf. Then he realized: because he was the weakest link. He was the one who could make them fall. He wasn’t an Alpha, he wasn’t a werewolf, but he was close to them and he had issues and these bastards _knew_ about them.

“Why the hell are you here in the first place? What do you want from us!?” he snapped turning back toward Deucalion now.

“More power.” the wolf shrugged. “That’s what everything comes down to, Stiles. You could only have the life you want if you have power.”

“And you just have to kill for it, nice.”

“Just a little.” the wolf nodded. “But your family could be safe. Forever. And everyone you love, and will love. Is it really a big sacrifice for a future like that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Stiles swallowed, eying the wolf now. He didn’t answer him, because there was no point. The Alphas were back and they either kill the whole pack, or they kill the whole pack and Stiles. Or Stiles kills the pack and becomes the Dark Lord of All, according to them. Bright future.

“Think about it. We’ll be back to claim the pack the next blue moon.” Deucalion smiled and bowed his head lightly, before he left Stiles and his thoughts alone. When the boy was alone, he couldn’t get his legs to move. It felt so surreal. This morning all his troubles were focusing on his father’s sickness, and how he kissed Derek. Then boom, the Alphas are back and they gave a warning. They weren’t half-assing about it, Stiles was sure.

The next blue moon was only a few weeks away. Will they be able to prepare for a pack of Alphas in that time?

Stiles arrived to school late from his first period and only could get out of detention because he had to help his father get home from the hospital. Scott was looking at him like a kicked puppy, when he refused to talk about what he was doing during the night.

But he did talk about the meeting with Deucalion. Of course he didn’t mention the tempting, but he told Scott about their attack. Then they called a meeting where he told the news to Derek and Isaac too. This was the most he could do, warn them to be prepared. Derek could start training them maybe. Or tell Isaac to flee while he could. But the boy said no. Well, if Stiles would have been Isaac he was on the road already, but he was still Stiles, and he had to stay. And probably get slayed together with the others.

But before all that, he had to have sex with Derek Hale.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Derek knew that because of his heat his judgments weren’t exactly right, and he cursed whichever upper entity decided to throw an angsty Stiles in his way while he was in this state. It was a miracle things didn’t turn out the worst.

The session with the Licking Incident was only two days ago and then the boy texts him at three in the damned morning that it’s time for another one. Right now. The wolf knew something was up. But he forced himself to rise out of bed and get to his car. He didn’t even have time to take a shower or throw on his leather jacket. He wasn’t going to put on a show this time; he just answered the call of Stiles.

Stiles asked him to come by car because he couldn’t bring his jeep this time, so he did just that. He arrived not long after, picking Stiles up. His plan was to oblige, and drive to the camp for a session as the boy requested, he really wanted to do that for him. But when Stiles got into his car he was different. Something was close to breaking in him, and he was determined to do a proper job about it. Derek wasn’t sure about it. He couldn’t tell Stiles what he should do, but he had one chance: saying ‘wolf’.

So he stopped the car. He wanted to talk to Stiles, he wanted to make it better, whatever it was. Maybe he doesn’t know it, but Stiles was doing a lot for him. He was always there no matter what happened, and he told him that he trusts him. He praised him. He touched him somewhere no one else did. Stiles was the boy who brought home back to him. A silly human kid with his stupid desire for pain and with the deepest soul Derek had ever encountered. He won’t let him sink into something even darker than this.

He knew that Stiles won’t accept no for an answer. In any other case Derek would have respected it, but not this time. The situation wasn’t a session, no meant no. He decided he won’t hurt Stiles that night. It didn’t matter how the boy was pleading, and didn’t matter how he tried to provocate him. Derek would never admit it, but when the boy angrily slammed into him he’s got caught off guard. Stiles put on some physical strength these months and rage seemed to give him even more power. Very well then, Derek decided to give this to Stiles.

But he wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Stiles didn’t let himself be pinned down, he wanted to win that fight badly. And when he did, his eyes were _red_. The wolf froze and couldn’t help but stare back into those pair of eyes but in the end he still looked away, instinctly offering his neck.

Stiles was the Alpha.

He was the Alpha and he wasn’t even _aware_ of it.

And the Alpha was licking his neck now. Wow okay. Derek wondered if Stiles even knew what he was doing and what it means. The contact had multiple effects on him. First of all, he really, really wanted to just grab Stiles and claim him then and there in the mud on the side of some road, Alpha or not. Secondly, he was confused, how can a human be an Alpha? Was that possible? He definitely saw it right and he could _feel_ Stiles’ powers too, and he just submitted to him. For real. Not for a session. But for a lifetime.

Was he ready to submit to Stiles for a lifetime, he wondered when he felt the boy come to his senses. He was just as confused as Derek, but for entirely different reasons. Well, the wolf decided to give him more of those reasons. He slowly reached out to finally touch Stiles the way he wanted, the way the boy _deserved_ it and kissed him.

Stiles kissed back and Derek felt his shoulders relax. Stiles accepted him. In more ways than he was aware of right now, but the wolf was determined to tell all about it to him when he was less confused.

On the way back to town, Stiles told him that his father was in the hospital, and Derek finally could see clear. The boy was more shocked and worried by the news than he admitted it to himself, and it triggered pretty heavy feelings, and rage. The wolf didn’t blame him for it; his father was the only one of his family. And if anyone knew how does it feel to lose the last one of your family, it was Derek.

He dropped the boy off by his house in the morning and didn’t left until he was sure that Stiles is alright. They weren’t just acquaintances now. They were more than friends, more than lovers, they were _pack_. Not just a pack, Derek sighed, but family. He was responsible for his Alpha now.

Stiles will flip his shit when he realizes what he had become, the wolf thought and he had to smile at the scene already.

\--

Derek had no time to linger about latest turn of events, because they were under attack. Peter’s warning was true: the Alpha pack was coming back. Apparently, for their blood.

“Did they say anything else?” he asked holding up his hand.

“This is all, what do you want me to say, that he was laughing manically and blew fire or what?!” Stiles snapped. The pack was holding a meeting in the Hale house, now their territory. Derek and Isaac were there, together with Scott and Stiles, even Allison came by. Stiles called her too because this was bigger than all of them, and maybe, just maybe this time the Argents won’t fuck things up. Also, Scott’s heat seemed to calm down so they could finally stay in the same room without consequences.

“So they want werewolf blood for power…” Scott hummed thoughtfully. Derek wasn’t sure what that exactly meant, and he doubted Scott had any idea either. The only one who knew anything was Stiles but he refused to tell. He was hiding something.

“Why they were talking to you, why not Derek or Scott?” Isaac asked. Derek swallowed and pocketed his hands. He was the only one in the room who knew the answer for that question and he wasn’t pleased. The Alphas could tell what Stiles really was and that’s why they gave him the warning. He was the ‘leader’. Derek had to respect them for not sneaking around like they did with Peter, but Stiles was hiding information just like his uncle did. Not a good start.

“I don’t know, I guess they picked the weakest opening: the human.” Stiles snorted waving his hand around. His answer didn’t seem to satisfy Isaac, but he didn’t press the matter. “Anyway, Isaac I think this is the best time for you to leave, if you want to.” Stiles started.

Derek wondered if Stiles was even aware of what the hell he’s doing, ordering around wolves and all. Isaac frowned at the boy confused. He squinted his eyes, stepping closer then. Derek was watching the reaction intently. Isaac was a smart wolf with sharp instincts, and his heart was beating at the right place. He was probably trying to grasp that something Derek already knew: that his Alpha was right in front of him.

“Yeah, you have no one here, and it’s not fair to keep you here.” Scott started, interrupting Isaac’s concentration. The wolf turned to look at Scott now.

“I’ll stay.” he said without hesitation. “Where would I go?” he asked, smiling a little, casting a glance back at Stiles. “My pack is here.”

“That’s nice and heroic, but still one more wolf with probably a few more weeks to live.” Stiles remarked under his breath.

“I’ll talk to my dad about this too.” Allison said carefully. The Argents were hunting by the code now, yes, but once trust wasn’t there it was lost forever, or for a long time.

“I doubt they do anything if there are no humans hurt.” Stiles remarked. “This is werewolf business.”

“They could decide to stay in town, and for that…”

“Yes, that totally helps Scott and the others.” the boy motioned toward the wolves. Allison sent him an angry glare, and Stiles rubbed his forehead. “Sorry.” He sighed, knowing he shouldn’t act like this, but he couldn’t help it. Allison was freaking out just like him, just like all of them did.

Derek knew they will need time to work up a good plan, and how deep they want to involve the Argents. Meanwhile, he had to get the Alpha for his pack.

\--

Stiles sighed as he run his hand over his buzz cut. Who needed all that hair, anyway, he wondered as he was searching his own face in the mirror. His reflection smiled back at him all too carefree. He was still Stiles Stilinski, 17 years old, awesome in guitar hero and a ladies man, whatever anyone said. But the real thing was so much more complicated than that.

He was ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, 17 years old with the addiction to pain and relief of pain. He was ‘Stiles’ Stilinski with a deep attachment to Derek Hale. He was a human in a pack of death sentenced werewolves. He was a confused teenager with questions without answers and who had to choose between his family and his _other_ family. And he chose.

He will be Stiles Stilinski, 18 years old, great lacrosse player and the boyfriend of Lydia Martin with a healthy father and a possible future without the supernatural in his life.

“Your mother liked your hair longer.” he heard his father’s voice, and he hung his head, smiling a bit sadly. That was exactly the reason he cut it. No one else was allowed to dig their fingers anymore in his hair, and he didn’t want them to. It was a warning. Just like his name. He had never used it anymore, because only his mother could call him by his real name, and he won’t let anyone take that away. “Did something happen?” the sheriff asked, walking into the bathroom.

Stiles sighed and turned toward him, smiling.

“Fuck the mainstream, I decided.” he said lightly.

“How’s your fever?” his father asked, feeling his forehead with his palm.

“Down now.”  Stiles answered huffing. Overprotective much. His father was acting as if he would have been in the hospital not long ago. “Dad, I’m fine, really.”

I just gave up my friends for us, but I’m fine, his forced smile said.

He was actually thinking a lot about Deucalion’s offer. He went through all the possibilities. The very first that occurred to him to help the pack fight and see what happens. It could result in possible death. Secondly, he was thinking about the power the Alphas offered. Bringing back people from the dead? Does that mean that he just has to kill the pack once and resurrect them? It still resulted in possible death… And who knows what was true about that power anyway.

At last, he was thinking about what he would lose and what he has to leave behind. His father would be devastated if he were gone. He would drink and probably die a miserable death and that was something Stiles didn’t want. If the werewolves were gone he would come clean to him. No more lies, no more disappointed looks. Stiles figured the Alphas could indeed tempt him just not in the way they expected. He won’t fight, he won’t join - he’ll step back.

And that will be fine.

But there were things he had to get rid of until then.

\--

This time, Derek didn’t stop his car halfway to camp. He was driving all the way, and he even endured the crushing silence Stiles was treating him with. He had a haircut, and there was determination in his eyes. The wolf was curious about it, because he was sure that his point got through: he won’t hurt Stiles until he heals at least a little. That will be a few more days, and Stiles was already requesting a session. Derek was prepared for everything this time, but not exactly what the boy presented.

“Are you still in heat?” Stiles asked as they walked through the gates of the camp. The question was damn invasive, but Derek was obligated to answer.

“I am.” he admitted.

“You sure handle it better than Scott.” the boy remarked.

“His heat didn’t last this long either.” Derek nodded. It was true, his heat wasn’t as intense, in fact it will peak this full moon and then he’s done with it for half a year. But it still messed up his dreams and his body was a very uncomfortable temple right now. Especially with Stiles nearby but he rather tried to stay away from that topic for a while.

“It means you’re horny all the time?”

“Partly.” Derek sighed just hating where this is going. Stiles led him to the cabin they used and put his backpack on one of the beds. “I’m not going to lick you again.” he said, just in case Stiles was afraid of that. The boy shivered at the thought and Derek could notice a faint hint of blush on his cheeks. Both their heartbeats picked up at that.

“You better not…” Stiles started as he opened his bag and took something out, throwing it at Derek. The wolf caught it without looking. “And no kissing either.” he added. “No caressing, no nibbling, not touching private parts, with fingers or tongue. We better make a list for it too.”

Derek frowned heavily, because those words didn’t make sense at all. He opened his hand and looked at what Stiles threw to him. It was a jar of lube. The realization hit him so strong his eyes flashed blue for a moment. What he felt wasn’t need, it was anger. Stiles wanted him to just _fuck_ him like that? There was no better word for that, he wasn’t asking for intimacy, he was asking for a fuck.

“Are you serious?” the wolf asked with a tight throat, swallowing.

“It will hurt just like a beating. Physically, definitely, if you don’t use too much lube.” Stiles answered as he would be just talking about his homework and Derek _hated_ it. He growled and slammed the jar down the table near him before he stormed closer to Stiles.

“Why are you doing this?!” he asked hissing between his teeth.

“Because I still can, Derek!” Stiles snapped. “You won’t beat me up I know that. But I can let you fuck me.” he said slapping Derek’s chest with the back of his hand. The wolf shook his head, glaring at him.

“You really don’t think you deserve gentleness?!” he asked shaking his head. It came out angrier than he intended to. He huffed and shook his head again, looking at Stiles. Then reached out to brush his knuckles softly against his cheek, just to show him that they could do this _right_.

“No!” Stiles groaned and slapped his hand away. Derek didn’t try to touch him again. “You’ll be gone in a few weeks, Derek. It’s either this or nothing.” the boy said as he was trying to steady his voice.

“We’re not going to lose.” the wolf started, watching Stiles intently. “We have an Alpha.”

“Who has not shown yet.” the boy sighed annoyed.

“He did.” Derek heard himself say before he could stop himself. Stiles hopeful gaze on him made him cringe. It’s now or never. “It’s you.”

The hope in the boy’s eyes immediately died, giving place for despair and confusion. So different from the shock Derek imagined the boy will get.

“But I’m not a werewolf.” he whispered, still in disbelief.

“I don’t know how it happened either, but it’s definitely you. I can feel it.” Derek insisted. His words were welcomed by heavy silence when Stiles just watched him. The boy told him to stop lying without words, but the wolf couldn’t give that illusion to him. Not anymore.

“I can’t be the Alpha.” Stiles swallowed, shaking his head at last. “I don’t…” he started, but stopped himself. As if he realized what he wanted to say would hurt Derek. But in the end, he still said it. “I don’t want to be.”

“Stiles…” Derek started quietly.

“I don’t!” Stiles snapped, and just for the irony, his eyes flashed red. “I never wanted Scott to be a werewolf. I never wanted to see my friends in danger all the time, I never wanted the bite, and I definitely never wanted to be a goddamn Alpha!” he shouted.

Derek said nothing. He had no words to make this better. He understood Stiles’ reaction to the news. More than he would like to admit. Being the Alpha was amazing. He had power, he felt like he was on the top of the world. But not everyone is suited for that much power. After the feeling of victory, Derek felt terrified. He wasn’t sure he could do this. The only moment he felt like he’ll be able to grow up to the task when he saved Stiles from Isaac’s blind rage. An Alpha’s task was mostly to protect and not to kill. Derek was familiar with attacking, but protecting was a different matter.

But he could feel that Stiles would be a good Alpha, he was strong. He was almost as strong as his mother, or his sister. There was that something in him that Derek himself was lacking. Yet, apparently the boy wasn’t that sure about himself.

“They tempted me.” Stiles started quietly. Derek’s heart skipped a beat. So they did say something to Stiles that made him acting like this. Their words could turn Peter into something even madder, and now they do the same with Stiles too. “They offered power. For the pack.”

For the pack’s blood, Derek immediately thought. They told Stiles to kill them. The wolf swallowed and listened if Stiles will continue, and he did.

“If I fight with you, I won’t be much help.” the boy wheezed, still not looking up. “If I go against you, I’ll have your blood on my hands, and I can’t…” his words were trembling as if it were a huge effort to say them.

Derek was watching him intently, listening to everything he had to say. In the end, he already knew what Stiles chose. He chose to quit. If the pack dies, his Alpha powers will soon dry up too, and he can go back being a normal teenager with a normal life. He was given a chance to quit and he took it.

“Thank you for telling me.” Derek nodded at last.

“I can’t leave my dad, Derek…” Stiles choked pulling up his shoulders as if he was trying to hide. The wolf stepped closer and put his arms around the boy without hesitation. He didn’t care if he would push him away they both needed this right now. Stiles didn’t push him away, but he didn’t hug back either.

“Can I kiss you?” the wolf asked in a deep voice, nuzzling his temple.

“No.” came the answer, and Derek sighed. He knew this will be probably their last session, so fuck he rules. He tilted the boy’s chin up and smashed his lips against his. Stiles gave a noise back in his throat, but Derek pulled him closer. He didn’t want to let Stiles go, not anymore. Not after all this. How dare he tame the wolf then abandon it just like that. It wasn’t fair, and Derek would still let him get away with it. “Asshole.” Stiles groaned when he pulled back.

Derek didn’t even have the strength to fight back.

“I’ll take you home.” he sighed, and moved away.

“Don’t, I’ll walk to the bus.” Stiles answered and packed his bag before he stormed out. The wolf didn’t try to stop him at all. They didn’t need a longer goodbye. Longer goodbyes only hurt more.

\--

_A blue moon is a second full moon in a single calendar month, which happens every two to three years_ , Stiles recited in his head as he was thinking about Deucalion’s words. They will be back the next blue moon. In a few days. Scott wasn’t talking to him for weeks now. But that was fine, Stiles decided. Actually, he didn’t talk to any of the pack since he stated he won’t get involved in the Alpha battle. Not in any way. He never expected them to understand, and he didn’t even want to. It was easier to let them go like this; he could pretend he hated them.

Until Scott had to ruin it all.

The wolf walked up to him suddenly between Econ and Biology and hugged him. Stiles was confused because he thought that they are not friends anymore, but apparently you couldn’t pull that with Scott. He was a good friend. The best.

“Can I ask you to take care of my mother?” he asked in a trembling voice, and Stiles sighed. He wasn’t the only one who was terrified out of their mind. “She… won’t really understand.”

“Yes, Scott, I know. I will.”  Stiles nodded, hugging his friend back.

“And Allison…”

“Scott.” he stopped him to pull back and look into his face. “You’re stronger than you think. You have a chance. Alpha pack or not, you… You’re strong.” he meant his every word, because they were true. Scott was strong in ways other werewolves weren’t. He was a goddamn hero in the making, and he would make a better Alpha than Stiles. But life was a bitch like that.

“If we come back, will you join us again?” Scott asked, swallowing because crying and hugging one day was pushing it.

“I will.” Stiles lied, smiling. And Scott believed it. In the end, after all that lying this was the one he believed. Stiles wanted to just crawl in a hole and die.

They spent the day talking about how stupid school is, and how teachers give too much homework and whined because less girls were walking around in miniskirts and shorts because of the chilly November weather. They acted like normal teenagers. And they acted like it for the next few days, as if the blue moon wasn’t hanging over their heads, marking the end of a life.

\--

“You went to work even when I was lying in the hospital with stitches in my side.” Stiles smiled sleepily at his father. “It’s just a fever, dad.”

“A fever which is there more than it should be.” the sheriff sighed from the door of his room. Lately, he was checking on him every night. Stiles could hear his door opening every night when his father got back from his shift, or every morning before he had to go. He was worried, and he knew something was happening to Stiles. The boy was thankful for his concern, but there was nothing his father could do for him at this point.

“Go, you’re going to be late, don’t let them scold you because of me again.” Stiles joked waving his arm at the man. The sheriff sighed and nodded.

“If there is anything, call me.” he told his son and closed the door.

Stiles smiled, and nodded snuggling under his covers. He was glad he was alone. He needed no one to see him miserable like this. Every joint in his body hurt from the fever. It hurt so much it couldn’t help reminding him how he felt after sessions. The pain will forever remind him of Derek, and he knew it must be his punishment for his choice. Forever being reminded of what he had to throw away to keep his miserable little life. But he didn’t do it for himself, he was doing it for his father and the others who will stay, he told himself.

It didn’t make it easier. His fever got worse during the night and he desperately wished Derek to be there with him. They were long gone, they stopped the sessions, they didn’t even talk since their last meeting. Yet, Stiles still wished for his presence and he knew it was selfish.

And he felt the worst Alpha ever when he felt someone sitting down on his bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beated, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Thank you for reading! ^^

Stiles thought that sex isn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal it was just the act of reproduction and the media just over-hyped everything around it. It was just putting things in things and jerk off. That was it. Purely physical. His first time was the same, nothing memorable.

But the thought of having sex, no, making love with Derek was a bigger deal than he thought. It wasn’t just about the body, it was about something deeper. It involved things which could get broken and never heal. He was afraid, but he realized he wanted it. He knew it will leave him with a scar, a deep scar, but he didn’t care anymore. Derek had answered a call he had never said out loud.

That was the real powers of an Alpha then.

“You called.” the wolf muttered when Stiles turned to look at him.

“You could hear me?” he asked, hating how his voice sounded weak from the fever. His body was still hurting, but Derek was there and it meant that everything will stop hurting soon and he was safe.

“I could feel you.” the wolf said.

“You should be preparing for tomorrow.” Stiles swallowed to wet his dry throat.

“My place is here now.” Derek muttered and Stiles’ heartbeat picked up. The tension shifted to something thick and suffocating and the boy didn’t mind. He groaned as he propped himself up on his elbow to reach out for Derek. He slid his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to kiss him. His body wasn’t as hot as the boy remembered. It was almost cold compared to his. And it felt heavenly against his burning skin.

Derek’s leather jacket soon landed on the floor along with his shirt. Stiles pressed his bare torso up against him desperately needing to pour all his fever into his body so they can share it. His lips never left the wolf’s all that time, talking to him without words but still with his lips. And Derek answered every little movement he made, every little lick and kiss was answered by him, making the boy even more desperate for release.

Stiles helped Derek to unbuckle his belt and slide off his jeans before he straddled the wolf’s hips. Two secure hands were sneaking up on his naked back to support his wobbly body. They were warm from his fever. Stiles loved to feel them against his skin, no matter what they did: hurting him, or pleasuring him. This attraction wasn’t entirely physical between them, it was deeper than that. Stiles was never really into men, and he doubted Derek had ever tried it with his own sex. Their relationship wasn’t about gender, it wasn’t about looks, it was about _trust_. The feeling of being there, taking care of someone and to belong to someone. The physical attraction only came after.

The boy arched his back and gasped out loud when Derek slipped his fingers inside his boxers to stroke him. Stiles pushed his chest against the other, and he was clinging to his neck groaning at the mind-numbing pleasure.

“Derek…” he called out in a broken voice when he felt his release coming. He buried his face into the wolf’s shoulder, biting down on his skin when his body tensed up in white bliss. He almost missed the deep moan coming from Derek’s throat. For a few seconds he was just hugging Derek and panting into his shoulder. When he pulled back, he saw the place where he had bitten the wolf. It wasn’t healed.

“It’s not healing…” he muttered in a raspy voice as he stroked his finger over the bruise.

“It’s the bite of an Alpha.” came Derek’s breathy answer. “It will be there for a long time.” Stiles swallowed and moved to lick and kiss it, as if trying to apologize. The wolf just smiled and kissed into his ear. He didn’t mind having something from Stiles on the battlefield tomorrow.

Stiles tilted his head to kiss Derek, one of his hands tugging on his briefs. It was time for act two. The wolf didn’t hesitate; he grabbed the boy’s thighs and pushed him down the bed, hovering over him. If he had to be honest, Stiles was extremely edible under him.  Now naked, with his kiss-attacked lips, his sweaty skin and with the glossy white leftovers of their earlier actions adoring his stomach. Derek had no idea how he could resist the boy while he was in heat.

He spotted the lube on the nightstand and took it. He had never seen how people did this kind of act but he had ideas. Especially when Stiles pulled up his knees and slightly spread his legs. He had a lot of ideas then.

“Fingers first…” Stiles helped, licking his lips as he was watching Derek opening the jar. Of course, the boy must have researched about this properly. “No need to wait for me, just do it in your pace.” Stiles breathed then. Derek pressed his lips together, trying not to remark why he still wanted it to hurt. But if that was Stiles’ last order to him, then let it be. He sighed and leaned in to kiss him as he stroked his entrance with two fingers before he pushed them in. The boy groaned from pain into their kiss. His hands found Derek’s shoulders to hold onto him while he prepared him. The small groans of pain and whimpers were driving Derek mad the more he heard them. And they got louder as he could move his fingers more easily. He had no idea how long he should do this, but Stiles said he should go in his own pace and his pace said that eat the boy up then and there, now!

He pulled his fingers out and reached for the jar again, but Stiles grabbed his wrist.

“Just a little.” He breathed. “Make it hurt.” he added whispering. Derek nodded, he will make it hurt. It already hurt.

He barely coated himself before he found his way between Stiles’ legs, and he wondered how natural it felt. It felt like the place he’s supposed to be, even if it sounded silly. The boy was trembling under him and Derek couldn’t help to kiss him again, and again.

“Are you afraid?” he asked in a low voice as he leaned his forehead against Stiles’.

“Yes.” the boy answered with a weak breath.

“From me?”

“For you.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek couldn’t help saying. He shouldn’t listen to the idiotic talking of a stupid human teenager. He heard Stiles laugh in all his body and he loved it. He loved everything Stiles did and said and even the things he didn’t say and will never say and never do. The wolf tilted his head to kiss him deeply, as if he wanted to penetrate him more than one way.

He reached under one of Stiles’ knees and lifted it up so he had more space to push in. Stiles cried out and grasped on Derek’s shoulder. It was a familiar cry, the wolf wondered, he heard it too many times, he had caused it too many times, and now here he is again. He didn’t stop to help the boy to adjust; he started a slow rhythm, listening to the huffs and pants of the other.

Being filled up by Derek was a very painful experience. In a lot of ways. Stiles couldn’t help his yell and he knew he shouldn’t tense up but he instinctly did. His breath was coming out in short puffs and the burning he felt was almost unbearable. This was so different than reading about it or watching it. He was hanging onto Derek with an iron grip until he caught up to him and the pain dulled just a little. He didn’t know when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them he found Derek’s gaze looking back at him, flashing blue.

The amount of feelings suddenly hitting Stiles were choking him so much he had to hold onto Derek tighter and kiss him again.

“What happened?” Derek asked into their kiss, suddenly concerned.

“I just love you.” Stiles answered between kisses, laughing like sad clown. He moaned when the wolf slipped an arm around his waist and pulled it up, changing their angle. His pace picked up a brutal speed then. The boy gasped out loud from the sudden pleasure and he was barely aware that his nails were leaving long, red marks on Derek’s back, crossing his tattoo. The wolf was buried deep inside him and he wanted to be even deeper, judging by how hard his movements were. If Stiles could he would let him, Derek was already under his skin, in his head, wrapped tightly around his heart.

“Ohmygo--“ he gasped into the wolf’s hair when he felt the touch on his hardened flesh again. There was no pain anymore, but pure pleasure.

Derek came loud and hard, almost violently and Stiles loved it. He followed him just bit after.

They didn’t rest too much, because they had a lot to catch up. And Stiles didn’t want to talk he just wanted to forget even if it was for only a few hours. But time doesn’t stop, he had to realize.

“I must go.” he heard Derek whisper against his ear, and he automatically squeezed him tighter. They were resting on the floor, leaning against the bed. Stiles had hazy memories of when and how they ended up on the floor, they just did. All he knew that he was still straddling Derek’s hips and he was holding him tightly in his arms. He knew the wolf must go. He knew it better than any of them, and yet he still couldn’t let him go.

“You do.” Stiles said at last and loosened his grip on the wolf, his arms practically falling off of him lifelessly. He let Derek help him sit back on his bed, taking the probably last chance to touch him once more. His trance was interrupted by Derek’s words again.

“We have an Alpha.” he started. “We’re not Omegas now, but Betas. We’re stronger. We won’t go down without taking a few of them. Have faith in us.” he spoke slowly and quietly as he put on his clothes. Stiles caught a glimpse of his bite mark on his shoulder again, still not healed. Derek hesitated before he left, but thankfully didn’t come back for a last kiss or more words of goodbye. He just left, and that was enough. Stiles said nothing either and he wondered when he will ever speak again.

Even if they win he wasn’t planning on joining the pack again. He was done with it all.

\--

“He isn’t coming?” were the words which welcomed Derek when he arrived in the Hale house that morning. Isaac greeted him, sad and really tired. Derek just shook his head, looking down.

“You can still choose to go.” he told the pup, even if it was in vain. He just wanted to do something. He wanted a miracle to happen which saves their pack. It was awful how he never seemed to have a life he once lost and now he’ll have to go down, taking others with him too. It wasn’t fair. But their only chance was to stand on their feet and show that the wolves of Beacon Hills are fearless.

“We’re stronger together.” Isaac answered.

Derek nodded.

“Call Scott and Allison, let’s prepare for tonight.”

\--

That day Stiles skipped school. He didn’t want to see anyone, and didn’t want anyone to see him. Not that he would have been able to get out of bed because of his constant fever. After Derek left his room, he could tidy up and take a shower, finally feeling like a human being again. But his fever ever so slowly sneaked up on him and by the time of breakfast he was already a whining, groaning miserable child.

The doctor had no idea what was causing the fever and his results showed nothing either. It was going on for a few weeks now, and he wondered if it has to do anything with the fact that his friends will be murdered soon. Probably. Maybe he’ll die with them, but not in battle, but in some mysterious whatever disease this is.

The worst thing about it was his father’s worrying. He didn’t want him to suffer another heart attack, but the way things were heading now it was just a matter of time. Stiles, get a grip, get a grip, he told himself.

He had no idea that he spent the whole day in bed, only when he heard his door open. He wanted to ask who it is, but he had no strength to even open his eyes. He gave a scared whimper about that because what the hell.

“Son, how do you feel?” he heard his father’s voice and he forced his eyes to open and look at him. The sheriff frowned concerned and placed his hand on Stiles’ cheek. His expression turned horrified in that moment. “You’re burning up.” he gasped and disappeared in the next moment. Stiles could hear the water running in the bathroom. He groaned and turned his head, just to catch a glimpse of the cloudy night sky. The night when it will all end.

Ages or maybe just minutes later his father came back and scooped him up in his arms. Stiles lightly wondered when was the last time he was carrying him like that, and had flashes of his childhood. Memories of the three of them still together. He whimpered and tried to make it stop. He heard his father’s soothing voice but he could not catch his words. Everything seemed like if it was a dream. Maybe it was.

Then he cried out as his skin met ice cold water. It was painful, but he could finally see properly and hear his father’s words.

“It’s alright, the doctor will be here soon.” he told him as he gently laid his son in the bathtub full of cold water. Stiles groaned trembling, but he calmed down. Apparently, the cold helped. He took a deep breath and glanced at his father who was sitting on the side of the bathtub, looking just like Stiles felt: awful.

He felt like a little kid again, who’s done something bad. Something very bad. But being reminded of how it was being a child made him remember something else too.

“Dad…” he started in a weak voice, smiling a little. “Will you read Winnetou for me?” he asked.

Whenever Stiles was sick, or something bad happened they always read Winnetou. The adventures of the Indian and Old Shatterhand could always make everything better. They read the stories until they fell asleep and everything was alright in the morning. But Stiles had to realize one day, that it’s not working anymore: when reading Winnetou didn’t bring his mother back. He demanded his father to read it to him every night, in vain hope of seeing his mother again in the morning. But she never came back and the day Stiles realized that he stopped asking his father to read it. Until today.

The look his father gave him broke his heart, but he still went to get the book. He always kept it near his bed, Stiles knew, because he wanted to be there for his son. Even if it only meant reading stories about Indians and Stiles was more than thankful for him.

He closed his eyes when the familiar words of the first chapter dropped from his father’s lips. He wanted the story to make him forget, to make everything better. He was alright with sitting in a bathtub full of cold water, and his father telling the fateful meeting of Winnetou and Old Shatterhand.

Until he heard the howl. It was the battle cry of a wolf.

Stiles slowly opened his eyes and turned his head toward his father who was still reading. He didn’t hear it. The boy sighed, carrying his gaze around the bathroom illuminated by neon lights and spotted himself in the mirror. His eyes were glowing crimson.

He was the Alpha.

Stiles knew that, Derek told him before. But this was the first time he truly _realized_ it. It made sense, because all the signs were there. How Derek averted his gaze sometimes when the session got heated, or how he seemed to ask for his opinion a lot more lately. Why Isaac and Scott sometimes looked at him before speaking, not even thinking about it. How people suddenly started noticing him. Why Peter was hesitant about killing him, and why the Alpha pack seeked him out. It was all because he was ever so slowly turning into a god damn Alpha.

As he was staring back into his red and _alien_ eyes, he remembered something. Just a few words he’d told Scott when the werewolf business started to get out of hand. It felt like a distant memory and it shocked Stiles more than he admitted.

_“You have something, Scott.”_

_“You have something that nobody else can do.”_

_“It means you don’t have a choice anymore. It means you have to do something.”_

Stiles closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the edge of the tub. He realized how utterly stupid he was, that he _never had a choice_ in the first place. He took a deep breath as his chest wanted to tighten up and kick all his air out of his lungs for a panic attack. No, he had to do this and there was no time. He sat up in the bathtub, reaching for his father’s arm with a trembling hand.

“Dad… I must go.” he said, looking into the sheriff’s eyes. His voice was weak but confident. There was a place he had to go and he was _late_.

His father was staring at him, utterly torn and faintly scared. But he was a Stilinski and he was a hero. So he closed the book and nodded, determined.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

The cold water seemed to help Stiles to feel less feverish, yet he could still sense it in his body. He quickly threw on sweatpants and a plain t-shirt and his father forced his red hoodie on him in the police car so he won’t catch a cold on a top of this all. Parents will be parents.

The pack never knew where exactly the Alphas will attack, and Stiles had no idea where they were. He just felt their _heartbeats_ , which was an entirely new experience for him, but he had to roll with it. He had a pack to fight for. They seemed to be near the Hale house and he was thankful for that because they could get there fast by car. There was no time to waste, not anymore. All the way, his father had asked nothing and he said nothing, but he knew that he will have to explain this to him. If he survives.

The car barely stopped when Stiles already opened the door.

“Stay here!” he told his father, not even looking back as he dashed into the forest.

“Will you be back?” he heard the question and stopped to spin around. Will he?

“I will.” Stiles said, and he didn’t mean it as a lie. He wanted it to be a promise. Then he turned and ran through the woods toward the place where he felt the heartbeats the strongest. As he was running, the full moon appeared from behind the clouds illuminating the whole forest. The boy had to gasp because it was brighter than he expected, he could see every little twig and rock, making running so much easier.

He spotted the Argents on his left suddenly, with Allison staring at him utterly shocked. All of them were there, waiting for the result of the battle. Stiles had no time to ‘greet’ them, he had werewolf business to take care of but he kept Allison’s gaze as long as he could, trying to tell her that everything will be alright.

As he was nearing the battlefield, he could feel his lungs burning and he was sure if he loses the ground from under his feet he won’t ever get up. He had to believe that he will reach the others in time. Not that he had a plan, or anything. He just has to reach them. Just when he was about to slow down he saw Derek. He was on the ground with Deucalion who was going in for the fatal strike. Stiles could smell the scent of blood and he could feel all his pack’s heartbeats. They were terrified but they were fighting. He only saw Derek, though.

“Get off him!” he roared and used the last bit of his energy to reach the two wolves. He remembered what his coach always said ‘use your shoulder, and lift from the thigh’,yes he’s going to do just that. In the next moment he smashed into Deucalion with all his body knocking him off of Derek. It was a painful experience, because his shoulder dislocated in the moment he pushed into him. He also took the attack the Alpha was planning for Derek and it clawed into the side of Stiles’ neck and face, tearing at his red hoodie and shirt. Stiles hissed as he hit the ground, his limbs complaining. He looked up just in time to see Deucalion charge at him and Derek jumping between them.

“STOP IT!” Stiles shouted and he was the most surprised when both wolves indeed stopped. Stiles groaned and pushed himself up, holding his shoulder. He could feel the sharp pain of the Alpha’s claw mark, but he was an Alpha too damn it he won’t start whining about it. Maybe later. When he was finally on two feet, he decided to call for his pack. “Scott! Isaac!” he shouted. His voice echoed around the forest, just like a howl. Seconds later the two wolves had arrived too. Stiles didn’t have to look to know, he could hear their heartbeats. “Derek.” he sighed then.

The wolf turned his head toward him then ever so slowly descended behind him. Meanwhile Deucalion’s pack has arrived too. Stiles felt a flare of pride seeing how utterly shitty they looked too.

“What are you going to do now?” Deucalion asked straightening up. “Your call for half time was impressive, but it was nothing more.”

Stiles snorted a little, being glad his point came out clear: he doesn’t need any of the power of the Alphas. But he wasn’t exactly planning to get killed here and now either. He had to believe, yes, that always helped: believing. He swallowed and his gaze fell upon the moon again.

“It’s blue moon.” he muttered absently and he felt Derek tense next to him. But he felt something else too: the moonlight. His ears started ringing, and he could feel his fever rise. It wasn’t fever, he realized, it was the power of an Alpha. And he let it flow. He took a deep breath and tilted back his head to concentrate.

He could hear his heartbeat. Then he heard Derek’s heart, beating the same rhythm as his. He smiled at that, but there was no time to be romantic. Isaac’s and Scott’s heartbeat joined in and that was his pack. They were strong and fearless and victors, Stiles discovered. He opened his eyes, which he was sure were red, and pinned Deucalion with his gaze.

In that moment, he could feel everything around them. He could feel his wound completely healing, his shoulder popping back to its place. His pack’s spirit grew. He could hear the tense heartbeat of the hunters way afar from them. Most importantly, he could feel the Alphas too. They were afraid.

Stiles blinked lazily, his lips pulling in a half smile.

“You can’t hurt us.” he whispered. “Not anymore.” he had no idea how, but he _knew_. The power the Alphas were talking about was indeed huge, and Stiles felt sick by how intense it felt against his skin. But it was useless against a pack like theirs. With an Alpha like him. They were not prepared for human magic.

Kali, the female member of the Alpha pack risked to step closer to Deucalion.

“It doesn’t worth it.” she whispered to him. The leader snarled, eying the suddenly formed pack in front of him.

“You could have had it all.” he told Stiles, but his words no longer had strength. The boy got a taste of something entirely different and not stained like their pathetic attempts. He didn’t need to kill anyone for it, he just had to _trust_.

“I already have it all.” Stiles said in a low voice. “Isaac, Scott, accompany our guest out of our territory.”  he muttered, turning his head to the side. He knew those two were safe now. Their blood had belonged to him, and no one else could benefit from it anymore. They were safe.

Deucalion sent him one last glare before he turned to join his pack and be escorted out by Isaac and Scott. Stiles watched them leave but he could still feel them when they disappeared. Then he slowly turned his head to look at Derek.

“Well done. Good job.” he whispered to him at last and the wolf let out a deep sigh.

“What should I do?” Derek asked still not moving from his spot next to the boy. Stiles huffed, licking his lips.

“Just kill me now because that was so embarrassing.” he started, motioning weakly with his arm. “’Accompany our guests’? What the fuck, that’s the lamest line I could come up with.” he breathed, trying to fight a panic attack. “I should have said something witty, like, ‘Hasta la vista’ or ‘so long bitches’ or… something…” he panted crouching over slightly. Then he felt Derek’s fingers kneading at his neck, calming him down.

This time he didn’t bat his hand away.

\--

Naturally, after the Alpha fight Stiles had to tell everything to his father. But he didn’t have to worry because there were Scott and Allison, and even Mr. Argent to make things more complicated too. It was the worst day of his life. At the same time, Mr. Argent was not amused that the Beacon Hills pack had a human Alpha for some reason, but Stiles promised to him that the pack will be sparkly clean and won’t hurt people anymore. Here he was looking at Derek pointedly.

After the officials, the pack had a private meeting too. Apparently, everyone knew that Stiles was Alpha before him. Which annoyed him without end.

“No, Scott, you’re lying, you totally had no idea!” Stiles snorted, pushing his friend.

“I had! I saw your eyes when you sneaked out the night your dad was in the hospital.” the boy said. Stiles groaned rubbing the back of his neck. They still had no idea how this all happened, or why exactly it scared off the Alphas. He was glad, yes, but it irked him that he couldn’t really understand what’s happening to him. He slightly wondered if it had to do anything with the sessions.

“You still didn’t tell me where you were going that night.” Scott wondered suddenly, and Stiles licked his lips. He was talking to his father about werewolves, yes, but he wasn’t ready to talk about the sessions. He also wasn’t sure if he wanted to inform his friend about his newfound bisexuality.

“It was Alpha business, okay?” he answered. Scott chuckled, but it was clear he was a bit hurt about Stiles and his little secrets. Things don’t change overnight, Stiles wondered. They were where they started. The only difference was that he could scare of enemies, and that was good. But he still had issues, he was still feeling extremely guilty in front of his father, and the unknown still scared him.

At least he wasn’t alone anymore to face it. He realized that people could not only be your weakness, but your power too. Just like Allison to Scott, and Derek to him. And the pack to all of them. And he had to turn into an Alpha to learn this lesson. Fate really had the worst humor.

Also, Stiles had to wonder when and how he’ll present his little relationship with Derek to the others. And to his father. He wasn’t even legal, and he was having sex with someone older who was a werewolf and a guy, and who sometimes beats him up when he orders him to. No, no, people should just know they are going out, that will be enough. Later. Can’t he go and fight with Alphas again, please?

 

**Epilogue**

 

Angel’s cherry lips pulled into a playful smile as she heard Stiles order for her. Coffee with milk, no sugar. And a slice of dark chocolate cake.

“Are we celebrating something?” she asked, crossing her legs. Her red hair was down this time in a neat ponytail, and his make-up was slightly wilder than office-lady. She was going to her other ‘work’ after this, the boy thought. Just like Stiles had a session that afternoon too.

“I guess we could say that.” the boy smiled shrugging, and took a sip from his drink. “This is just my thanks for helping me.”

“I was only giving advice.” Angel smiled. “You were the one who did the work.”

Stiles snorted nodding, and thanked the waitress when they arrived with their order. Angel was watching him with an amused expression.

“You’ve changed.” she said at last. Stiles playfully rolled his eyes. He was about to say he didn’t change at all, but she continued, leaning forward to him. “You’ve tasted your true powers, haven’t you?” her voice was soft, and ever so lustful. Stiles blushed faintly, swallowing.

“You have no idea.” he said in a low tone, glancing at Angel. They shared a look. Stiles could get a glimpse of her world now. A world where she wasn’t an office lady, or a dominatrix, but a leader. An Alpha on her own territory.

“This is where it gets complicated, Stiles, because power is easy to abuse.” she started as she took her fork to taste the chocolate cake. Her movements were graceful, and still full of confidence what Stiles adored in her so much. “You have the potential to be a tyrant or a true ruler. The choice is yours.”

Stiles knew that Angel’s words will stay with him for a long time, and he didn’t mind. He needed those words, which was the reason he called Angel for a meeting again.

“Thank you.” he said, smiling softly.

His phone rang not much after. It was Derek. He arrived to take him to the camp. They were still meeting for sessions, and Stiles wondered if they ever will stop them. He excused himself, and stood up to meet the wolf who was waiting for him in front of the café.

\--

“Do you think this makes me some kind of werewolf tamer?” Stiles asked Derek after the session while he was helping him clean up. There was extremely cold outside, so a warm shower was quite necessary. And very pleasant. Especially the way Derek helped with it.

“No.” the wolf snorted lifting one of Stiles’ arms to soap his side gently, being aware of the bruises and cuts. “But you broke me, so you have to take responsibility.” he added as a matter of fact.

Stiles smiled weakly.

“I will, since... I’m your Alpha now.” he said.

Derek smiled ever so lightly, and tilted his head to kiss the boy. He wondered what he would say about the fact that he’s not just his Alpha anymore, but became his _mate_.

 

**End**


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